


The silences between words

by Quicksilvermaid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Prospector!Gendry, Ranger!Jon, Recluse!Jon, Slow Burn, Trust, very slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 29,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid
Summary: AU set in a mainly Westeros world in a time period that is similar to the 1800s.The Wall is a series of Mountain ranges that cut off the North of the continent. Each Mountain Pass is guarded by a Ranger, though the reasons why have been lost.After the brutal deaths of his family, Jon Snow becomes a Ranger, taking the isolated mountain pass of Deep Lake as his post.The stillness, the lack of human contact and the ability to live his life exactly as he wants to are what Jon needs.But that peace is shattered when Gendry Waters falls into his life, with his questions, his stories and his intense blue eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This Jon might seem a little OOC but go with me on it ;) 
> 
> Also forgive me any prospecting errors. I am fully bullshitting. Also medical things ... really just making it up. 
> 
> Inspired by a guest comment on Finding the Way requesting hurt/comfort.
> 
> On Tumblr as squirrel-and-me if you want to say hi :)

**Gendry**

The moment he fell, Gendry knew he’d really fucked up this time. 

This whole expedition had been crazy - everyone at the Citadel had told him so. There was good reason no one ever prospected in the Gift. The land was rugged, full of unexpected caves and crevasses. It was a huge, sprawling, forested wilderness - thousand of leagues of nothing but trees and mountains.  
There weren't even any settlements in the Gift; that was one of the things that had intrigued him about it. Supposedly there was a Ranger stationed in every one of the twenty passes that ran along the mountain range that was named the Wall - why they were there was anyone's guess. Rumour had it they were all mad recluses who'd run away from the real world to play at being heroes and 'protecting the realms of men.' Gendry wouldn't know. He hadn't seen a single living soul in the two months he'd been roaming around the mountains. 

He also hadn't seen even a trace of iron ore, the metal he'd been _sure_ of finding. The mines throughout the South were so low nowadays, and the need for raw materials was so high. What better place to prospect than a vast, uncharted wilderness that was set to terrain very likely to produce results.  
Two months and hundreds of miles worth of stream bed, cave and rock wall exploration and his initial confidence had dimmed. He'd decided to try one last place he'd heard about from locals that lived down beyond the Gift. The name Deep Lake sounded promising. The land around here contained the sedimented layers of rock he wanted to see, but the iron enrichment wasn't present. He hoped that this Lake contained the washdown sediments required to form the ore. 

If it didn't ... that possibility didn't bear thinking about. He'd sunk every single coin he owned into this venture, and then he'd borrowed the rest. Just buying passage so far North had been a huge dent in his funds, let alone equipping himself with enough food, prospecting tools and equipment to allow him to live rough for several months and do the necessary explorations and mineral tests.  
Deep Lake was his last chance, especially with the onset of the colder weather. Soon the entire mountain range would become impassable. A frozen wasteland for months. He needed to be long gone before then. Already that morning he'd felt a bite of cold that hadn't been present the day before. The air was just that little bit sharper. 

It was these thoughts that were preoccupying his mind, swirling round and round, when he fell. One moment he was walking along a wide, rock ledge, eyes on the next part of his climb, the next, his foot came down on thin air. His arms flew wide, to compensate, but he had already tilted to his right as his foot dropped into nothingness. The heavy pack on his back overbalanced him and he fell into open air. He dropped fast, curling in on himself as much as he could as the trees below rushed up to meet him. The first impact against a solid branch knocked the wind out of him and he grunted at the pain, uncurling slightly and scrabbling for a hold, but the branch was ripped from his hands as he continued to fall, spinning as he smacked against the tree. 

Finally he hit the ground. There was a sickening crunch as he did so and a second later the pain hit him, deep and stabbing in his left thigh. Gendry screamed at the agony of it, clutching at his leg. His scream brought a sharp spear of pain into the ribs on his right side. He gasped, panting and sobbing. Trying to get himself under control. The deep, throbbing pain in his leg and the sharp stabs in his ribs were intensifying as his heart beat out of control and the adrenaline pumped through his system.  
Gendry gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He forced himself to breathe slower. He pushed the pain and the panic and the fear down and just focused on breathing.  
The pain was just as strong when he opened his eyes, but he felt more in control. He looked down at his leg, hands still digging into it. It was definitely broken, but he was relieved that he couldn't see any sign of bone poking through. He almost giggled at the thought that there was anything in this situation that was cause for relief. Then he pulled himself together, realising shock was hitting him. He needed to act now, while he was still rational.  
He slipped the straps of his pack off his shoulders, hissing at the pain in his ribs as he did so. He looked around himself. He was underneath a large tree and there wasn't much undergrowth around him for cover. Other trees stood all around and he couldn't see through them to the skyline. He looped the strap of his bag around one wrist and dragged himself backwards a pace, towards the base of the tree. He screamed again at the movement, as the white hot pain lanced though him. When his vision cleared, he panted roughly, then moved again. Inch by agonising inch, he made his way to the tree resting his back against it.  
He rested there a while, eyes tightly closed. Then he slowly undid the straps of his bag, letting his bedroll free. He pulled the blanket over himself, and struggled to free his water bottle.  
His movements were getting slower now, his hands starting to shake. He continued pulling out items until he reached the small, medical kit he carried. His heartbeat was rocking unsteadily in his chest now and his breath was coming in shallow pants. He reached into the kit, fumbling for the small bottle of laudanum. He twisted the top off, hissing as even that small movement made his ribs twinge. Then he gulped down a swallow, making sure to cap the bottle again. He sat it down next to himself and then gave in to the blackness that was eating at the corners of his vision. 

He had no idea how much time had passed before he gained consciousness again. The pain hit him immediately, more of a dull, relentless throb now. He reached down for the water skin next to him and the pain flared higher again, back to the burning agony of earlier. He gasped, trying to breathe through it. For the first time the full desperation of his situation hit him. He was in the middle of no where, no one knew were he was and he didn't have a chance in hell of being able to walk. He closed his eyes and thumped his head back against the tree.  
_The bull does it again_ , he thought bitterly. Once again he had jumped head first into something without fully thinking of the consequences. This time though, this time it might cost him his life. Gendry pushed that thought away. He still had supplies. He could start by seeing what he could do for his injuries and trying to make himself more of a shelter against the weather.  
The next few hours were some of the most agonising of his life. More than once he had to pause and wait for the blackness to recede from his vision. But finally he had a wonky lean-to set up over his head and his leg was as tightly wrapped as he could get it. He didn't even try with his ribs.  
He deliberately didn't think about the fact that he hadn't set the leg, or the fact that he'd been relying on hunting to supplement his stores for weeks, or that fact that once his water was gone, he had no way of finding more.  
When he was done, he took another, deep gulp of the laudanum and closed his eyes again. 

It was morning when he woke properly next. He felt as though he hadn't rested at all though. The pain had haunted his dreams, jerking him back awake throughout the night. He forced down a bit of food and then rolled over onto his right leg to relieve himself into the dirt beside him. He pushed some loose dirt over it and sat back, tired again. He felt like he couldn't get warm and pulled the blankets back over himself. The day passed in snatches of awareness. At one point he started shaking and couldn't stop. Eventually the stabs of pain this sent through his ribs forced him into unconsciousness. He woke up again in the night, drenched in his own sweat and feeling like his bones were made of ice. He fumbled around, forcing down food and water and the last of the painkiller.  
At one point he cried, but the tears and the sobs that came with them hurt too much. So he started speaking. He talked to all the people in his life he needed closure with. He told the Maesters in the Citadel that they could all go fuck themselves. And they they were right, he would never amount to anything. He told Old Mott that he had been right too. Should have stuck to smithing instead of trying to get above himself with all this prospecting business. He told his mother he wished he could remember her face better. He told his never-known father that he would have been a good son. 

He woke to a cold, wet nose in his face and a rasping tongue licking its way up his face. Huge, red eyes stared into his, and he took in the massive white head and furred neck of the wolf in his face. He was too far gone to be scared. Instead he reached out to give the beast a pat. 'Good boy,' he rasped. 'Not long to go now, then you can eat me up. Want to wait here with me until I'm done?' He patted the ground beside him, barely feeling the pain in his ribs as he did so. The wolf looked at him, tilted its head to one side and then turned in a leap and disappeared into the bushes without a trace. Gendry was sad to see it go. 

He wandered in and out of pain filled dreams, seeing people from his past, reliving memories. He was burning up now, but didn't have the strength to loosen his clothing. The water was gone. Or he thought it was. He didn't know where he'd put it. 

His friend the wolf came back. 'I'm ready now, boy. You can eat me any time,' he told the animal, struggling to focus on it.  
He heard a quick snort of laugher, as thought the comment had caught someone by surprise. 'He's a bit long in the tooth to be eating people these days,' said a voice that sounded hoarse with disuse. Gendry looked up slowly, and a man's figure came into focus. He was wearing black clothes and black furs. His hair was wild and tangled around his head and he had a thick, black beard covering half his face.  
Gendry frowned. Why was he imagining this man? He didn't even resemble anyone he knew. And why was the imaginary man making fun of him?  
The man knelt down in front of him, reaching for his waterskin and handing it to him. Gendry looked down in surprise, _oh, it had been there the whole time_. He tried to reach for it and missed. The man held it to his mouth and he took a deep, greedy swallow. He coughed slightly and the pain speared him again. He gasped, vision tunnelling. The last thing he saw was concerned brown eyes looking down at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Jon**

_15th day of the 5th moon after re-supply_  
_Food stores: high_  
_Water supply: clear_  
_Wood supply: high_  
_Weather: season turning, smell of snow in the air_  
_Sightings: none_  
_Observations:_

He paused, tapping his quill against the ink pot, looking over at the man lying in his bed, piled up to the chest with furs, finally sleeping. Then he began to write. 

_Today has been a ... strange day. We were patrolling near the devil's steps when Ghost disappeared. I assumed he was after a deer so I didn't bother with a chase; we're well stocked, even if this Winter is a long one._  
_But then he came back and did the oddest thing. He started pushing and nudging me, trying to get me to climb down over the edge of the stairs. When I wouldn't, he grabbed my hand with his teeth, just hard enough to hurt, and pulled._  
_I don't even remember how long it's been since Ghost showed any sort of dominance to me like that. So I followed his lead and we made our way to the ground. And then we came across the man._  
_He's some fool prospector by the looks of him, all kitted up with hammers and pans and jars. He probably should have packed less of that and more common sense. His leg was badly broken and maybe some ribs too. I don't know how long he'd been out there but when I found him he was delirious and feverish._  
_I thought about leaving him - we don't need that kind of attention up here - but Ghost gave me this look._  
  
  
_... I wouldn't have left him. Father taught me better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of Jon's POV is going to be his journal and will probably be quite short, while Gendry will flesh out all the details. Hope that reads ok to people


	3. Chapter 3

**Gendry**

When he came back to consciousness, it was a slow thing, like pulling his mind out of a pool of honey. He drifted awake in layers, registering that he was warm and comfortable and that he hurt, but that it was a dull pain. He opened his eyes slowly, then blinked at the blackness that remained, looking around. For a moment he panicked, thinking he had lost his sight, but then he saw the dull glow of a fire, burned down to embers in a hearth, and realised that it was night. It was night and he was inside. Lying in a bed.  
His eyes adjusted slowly and he looked around the room in the dim light.

It wasn’t a large space. The bed he was in took up almost a quarter of it, then there was a chair and table in the other corner, beside the fire, with some rough hewn-cupboards hanging above it. In the other corner, by the door was a large armchair, layered in furs. At the base of it lay a huge, white wolf, sleeping quietly in front of the fire.

At the sight of it Gendry felt memories come flooding back. The wolf - he’d fallen - the wolf had come to eat him? … to save him?  
There was a man. Warm brown eyes. Gentle hands. He remembered being strapped to a travois, then a crunching pull on his leg … then nothing … for how long? He shifted slightly, and hissed as his ribs flared. The wolf opened its eyes and looked across at him, but stayed where it was. He eyed it, uncertainly. Clearly it wasn’t dangerous if it was here inside this … house.

The pile of furs on the chair beside it moved as well and Gendry realised it was a man - the man who had saved him. The Ranger dressed all in black with his wild hair. He was sleeping now, head tilted to one shoulder, leg curled up over the arm of the chair. He looked tired. His face was lined with worry, even in sleep. With a shock Gendry realised he must be in the man’s bed. At that thought more fragments of memory came to him, hazy things, that wouldn’t connect together. A cloth wiping over his forehead as he muttered and thrashed … a low voice humming a tune, the same melody over and over again until he slept again … strong arms cradling his shoulders as he was lifted gently to drink …

_How long have I been out?_ Gendry, though, dazed. Then, _this man saved my life_. He couldn’t comprehend the idea that a stranger had saved him, cared for him, given up his bed to him, without even knowing him. That sort of selflessness didn’t exist in life he’d grown up in, in the slums of Flea Bottom. There he had seen a sick man knifed for the piece of bread sitting next to him. He shifted in bed again, his discomfort increasing. He became aware that he was desperately thirsty and his stomach felt empty. He tried pushing himself up higher, looking for a drink of water. The movement sent a sharp stab of pain through him and he cried out, involuntarily.

Instantly the Ranger was alert, his head jerking up, eyes fixing unerringly on Gendry’s form in the dark. His eyes were shadowed. Across the room, in the low glow of the firelight, Gendry could see him blink a few times as he tried to adjust to the night. Then he saw Gendry’s attempt to sit up and pushed himself out of the chair, stretching the kinks from his neck as he did so. In a few quick strides he was at the bed, and he put one arm around Gendry’s bare shoulders, the other grabbing a fur and bundling it up behind him, so he was sitting at a slight angle. Gendry relaxed back, panting at the movement.

‘Drink?’ he rasped, his voice dry and unused. The man stood over him, looking down at him, but at the word he seemed to shake himself slightly, turning for a cup and filling it before coming back to the edge of the bed. He passed it to Gendry, but his hand shook as he reached for it. The Ranger wrapped his hand over Gendry’s, helping him to bringing it to his mouth, and the warmth of the other man’s palm surprised him. He took a big gulp of the water, and nearly choked on it.  
‘Slowly,’ the man said, his voice low and gravelly. Gendry’s eyes flicked up to his face, shadowed as he faced away from the fire. He nodded then took smaller sips, until he’d finished the cup. 

The Ranger let go of him and picked up a pot on the ground beside the bed.  
‘Do you need to … relieve yourself?’ he asked, not meeting Gendry’s eyes. Immediately he was aware that his bladder was full to bursting. He also became aware for the first time that he was naked under the furs … The other man seemed to notice when this realisation hit him.  
‘I had to keep you clean. That’s all,’ he said, passing the pot and backing away to the fire. He knelt down in front of it, busying himself with putting a few small pieces of wood onto it. The light in the room flared brighter and Gendry pulled the furs back slowly. His torso was covered in tightly-wrapped bandages and the support around his chest felt good. He used the chamber pot quickly, noting that his leg was also bandaged and seemed to be splinted with something, then he placed it down on the bed and cleared his throat.

The Ranger turned, came back to the bed and disappeared outside. Gendry felt his face burn at being helpless while a stranger tended to his intimate needs. When the Ranger re-entered the room, he didn’t seem embarrassed by it. He lifted the lid on a small cast-iron pot beside the fire. A delicious aroma of meat and vegetables wafted out. He turned to look over his shoulder, cocking one eyebrow at Gendry. He nodded, ‘Yes, please. I’m starving.’

As the man scooped the stew into a bowl for him, he continued, raspy, his voice gaining its normal tone as he went on. ‘You saved my life. Thank you. I don’t know how I will ever repay you. I’m Gendry. Gendry Waters,’ he wanted to hold his hand out to be shaken, but the Ranger just passed him a bowl of the stew and another cup of water and moved back to his chair beside the fire.

Gendry looked down at the food, momentarily distracted by the amazing smell. His stomach grumbled loudly and he picked up his spoon. He managed to get most of it in his mouth, despite the tremors, and as he went on, he felt some of his strength returning. Eventually he paused for breath. ‘This is amazing, thank you. It’s delicious. I didn’t catch your name, by the way?’

The man at the fire looked at him, silent a moment, then he said softly, ‘It’s Jon. Jon Snow.’ For a moment Gendry wanted to make a joke about a man with the name of Snow living in country like this, but he had a sense that this man wouldn’t take the comment well.  
‘Jon Snow. Right. How long was I out Jon Snow?’ He wasn’t sure he was going to like the answer, and he was proved right a moment later.  
‘Four nights.’  
Gendry sank back against the bed. He truly had been on death’s door. The thought, the drink, the food and the night all conspired to make him feel suddenly, bone-achingly tired again. He shifted, trying to lie down flatter once more. The Ranger - Jon - noticed and came forward to lift his shoulders again, removing the extra fur. He lay flat with a sigh of relief, closing his eyes.  
‘Thank you,’ he murmured, already half asleep. His last thought before the darkness, was that Jon Snow smelt faintly of pine needles, and that it was nice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Gendry**

When he woke next, there was light flooding in through the open shutters near the door, which was also half open. Gendry blinked and looked around. The hut was empty, the fire cold. But there was a pleasant breeze blowing through the room. He yawned and rubbed his face with one hand, then slowly and gently began to lever himself into a sitting position. When he was upright, he felt sore, and tired, but happy at the small achievement.

Looking across to his right, he noticed a cup of tea and a few flat biscuits on a shelf next to him. Reaching across slowly, he picked up the cup. It was still warm and he sipped it appreciatively. His eye wandered over the room again. It was different in the daylight but not much. Still small, rough-hewn wood - but well made, with a stone hearth. He could see a few more sets of shelves and cupboards but no ornamentation, no artwork, no sense of who the cabin’s occupant was. He wondered where the Ranger was. He couldn’t be far, if the warm drink was anything to go by.

As if his thoughts had summoned him, Jon’s bearded face appeared in the doorway. He smiled at seeing Gendry awake, or he might have … it was hard to tell with all the hair. Gendry smiled back anyway.

‘I don’t know if I said it enough last night, but thank you. For saving me. For bringing me here. For looking after me. I really will find some way to repay -‘  
Jon stepped into the room and cut him off with an abrupt wave of his hand. ‘It’s nothing.’  
Gendry stared it him, _it wasn’t nothing, it was his life._ But he resolved to let it go … for now.   
‘Do you live here alone?’ he asked. The Ranger’s eyes turned to his from where he’d busied himself in the cupboards above the small table. He hesitated a moment, then nodded, turning back to his task. Gendry wasn’t perturbed by the lack of response … he was getting the feeling the Jon Snow was a man of few words. That was fine. He’d never had a problem filling silences.

‘You’re a Ranger, right? I mean you must be - no one else lives out this way.’  
Jon hesitated again before nodding, and placing a loaf of bread and the remainders of a hard wheel of cheese on the table. He took a knife from the sheath at his hip and began to carve chunks off each.  
Gendry watched him. He seemed totally at ease in the small space, content in the solitude, completely self sufficient.  
‘How long have you been out here?’ he asked, curiously.  
Jon Snow’s brown eyes came up to meet his, looking startled. Gendry realised he was being nosy and back-pedalled, ‘Sorry, ignore me. I tend to be too familiar for my own good -‘  
‘Seven years,’ the Ranger said, in a low voice, as he handed Gendry some food. Gendry’s hand froze in the process of reaching for it.  
‘You’ve been out here. Alone. For _seven_ years?’ he asked, stunned.  
Jon shrugged, placing the food beside him. ‘I have Ghost. And the re-supply comes every twelve months or so.’  
Gendry stared at him, unable to comprehend how someone could live alone in the isolated wilderness for years on end with almost no human contact. If it were him, he’d go mad. He eyed the Ranger, maybe the man _was_ mad. His brown eyes seemed steady enough, but he was wild looking … maybe he’d saved Gendry for some sinister future purpose. He pushed the thought away. Lying around in bed was rotting his brain.

‘Can I get out of bed?’ he asked hopefully. Jon frowned and looked down, then reached for the covers, pulling them back. Gendry yelped slightly, and grabbed at the furs over his crotch. Jon gave him a look he couldn’t read - exasperated? - but didn’t say anything, just reached over to push gently at his bound and splinted thigh, near his hip. His first touch was bearable, but the second and third had Gendry hissing in pain and closing his eyes. Jon stopped and pulled the covers back over him.

‘Not yet,’ he said.  
Gendry looked up at him, ‘When do you think I’ll be able to get out of bed? When will I be able to walk again?’  
Jon shrugged, ‘A few more days maybe.’  
‘And walking?’ Gendry prodded.  
‘A week? Two?’  
Gendry frowned. That was a long time to be helpless … and useless. ‘Okay then,’ he said, forcing cheerfulness. ‘So while I wait for that happy day … what is there to do around here? What do you do for fun.’ He picked up the bread and cheese as he spoke, taking a bite, and washing it down with some tea.  
Jon looked at him and the silence stretched out, ‘… I walk,’ he said, and Gendry could have sworn he heard a hint of laughter in the other man’s voice.  
He sighed and banged his head back on the wall, ‘of course you do. Anything else that I could do around here?’ Jon seemed to take pity on him. He knelt down beside the bed and reached under it, pulling out a dusty box. He opened it up and pulled out a few books, they looked very well worn. 

‘You like stories?’ Gendry asked, looking over them. The covers read _The Children of the Forest, The Dragons of Valyria_ and _Tales of the Long Night_.  
Jon shrugged, ‘They were my brother’s.’ Gendry glanced up at him and noticed a tightening around his eyes. The Ranger’s gaze was fixed on the books in his hand. Then he turned away abruptly.  
‘I have things to tend to outside.’ The unspoken question was, _you’ll be okay?_  
‘Sure, no problems,’ Gendry called to his retreating back. ‘This will keep me plenty occupied.’  
He opened the first page of the Children and his eye caught on the childish scrawl on the inside cover: ‘Brandon Stark’. He ran his fingers over the words, then began to read.


	5. Chapter 5

**Jon**

_19th day of the 5th moon after re-supply_  
_Food stores: high_  
_Water supply: clear_  
_Wood supply: high_  
_Weather: last of the autumn warmth today, soon it will snow_  
_Sightings: none_  
_Observations:_

_I think I've lost the way of people._

_The man - Gendry Waters - talks. He talks and talks and fills all the silences. He reminds me of little Rickon and his endless, pestering questions. I would answer one and ten more would come after. Rickon would be sixteen this Winter … he would be almost a man, going out on hunts with father, chasing after the local girls … only there is no father and there is no Rickon._

_I don’t know how I will bear a long Winter with a man who talks and talks like Rickon._


	6. Chapter 6

**Gendry**

He must have slept through the rest of the day. When he woke again it was early morning - the first light of dawn was just stealing through the windows. He glanced over to the chair by the fire - it was becoming his habit to check what the Ranger was doing when he woke. Jon was curled sideways in his chair, head pillowed on one arm, his wolf sleeping at his feet. He looked younger when he was asleep and Gendry wondered how old he was. He looked at the man, wrapped in furs to keep warm, curled in on himself, and he felt a pang of guilt. He was taking the man’s bed. The sooner he could heal up and get out of here the better.

Jon had begun leaving the chamber pot on the shelf next to him and Gendry relieved himself quickly. He noticed the book he’d been reading was placed on the shelf, with his page marked … he must have fallen asleep reading it the day before. He was feeling grimy from being in bed the last few days. He wondered if he could ask the Ranger for some water to wash with. Then he thought about all the places he couldn’t reach right now and suddenly he felt uncomfortable. Jon had washed and tended his entire body while he had been sick. It was nothing to feel awkward about - asking him for help again. But somehow, it was very different to be awake and aware while someone else washed your body. He decided he could put up with feeling grimy a little longer.

He sat himself up. Movement was becoming easier on his ribs, as long as he moved slowly. He tried to decide what to do with himself, feeling frustrated at being trapped in the bed. He looked over at the Ranger again, now just wishing he would hurry up and wake. He’d never been good at sitting still and doing nothing. 

As though he sensed eyes on him, Jon Snow opened his, meeting Gendry's from across the room. Gendry flushed and looked away, embarrassed to have been caught watching the man sleep. Jon stood and stretched, disappearing outside for a moment, Ghost going out too. When he came back in, without the wolf, he put a few pieces of wood on the fire and sat a pot of water over it to boil. 

'Good morning,' Gendry said, trying to cover his awkwardness.  
'Morning,' Jon said in return. Gendry counted that as a victory.  
'What do you have planned for today?' he asked. Jon looked across at him, sitting back on his haunches.  
'Checking traps,' he said. 'Hunting, maybe.'  
'Fresh meat or for stores?' Gendry asked, idly curious but mainly just wanting to keep the conversation going.  
'Both. I had enough for Winter ...' _But now_ , the thought hung unspoken between them, _I'm feeding twice as many mouths as I planned for._  
They had a breakfast of eggs - what kind of bird laid blue eggs, Gendry wondered - and pieces of meat cut off a dried, spicy sausage. It was delicious. After Jon cleaned up, he moved a few things around until food, drink and the pot were all easily within Gendry's reach. 

'Before you go, I don't supposed you could tell me what's outside the door?' he asked hopefully, craning his neck to try and see. The angle just wasn't right.  
Jon looked at him as though the question was ridiculous. Gendry thought it maybe was but he was going stir crazy and something needed to change.  
'Just a few words about the trees, or the rocks or a rabbit you saw yesterday?'  
Jon huffed a small laugh and Gendry grinned back at him.  
'Please?'  
The other man stood and went to the doorway, leaning in the frame of the open door and speaking to the space outside.  
'It's going to be a sunny day,' he said, glancing back across at Gendry, who nodded encouragingly. 'The hut is in the middle of a clearing. There's part of the Wall behind us.' He fell silent, looking out. Gendry thought that was the most words he'd heard the man say in a row yet, but he decided to push his luck.  
'What else?'

Jon continued, and as he did, his voice gained energy and life. 'There's a wood shed to the right of us and a vegetable garden growing out the back. There are trees to either side of us, huge old pine trees, but out to the front of the hut, right out this door, is clear. You can see for miles from here. The landscape is beautiful, rolling hills, steep cliffs, green valleys. The view looks over the Deep Lake pass. Sometimes the clouds come so low that you feel like you're sitting in the sky ...' he trailed off at this, looking self-consciously down at his feet.  
Gendry stared at him, amazed at the picture he'd painted, but more at the fact that he had such a clear feeling of love for the land from the Ranger. The man really did want to be up here.  
'It sounds wonderful,' he said in return. 'I can't wait to see it. Maybe tomorrow?'  
Jon looked across at him, sitting up in the bed, eyes hopeful.  
'Maybe,' he replied. 

\---- 

It was almost dark before he returned, Ghost at his heels, muzzle bloody. He had a small deer and two rabbits butchered and slung over his shoulders. He dropped a few things inside then went out again, returning without the animals. Presumably he'd hung them somewhere to dry. 

Dinner that night was a fresh rabbit roasted over the fire with potatoes cooked in the coals. Ghost got a raw rabbit to himself, but even watching him eat it wasn't enough to put Gendry off.  
'You're a really good cook, you know,' Gendry said, sitting up in bed and licking the juices off his fingers. Jon looked away from him.  
'Do you grow everything here? How do you get spices, and tea?'  
Jon shook his head, 'lots of things but not everything. I can order what I don't have from the man who comes to do the resupply.'  
Gendry marvelled at the idea of waiting twelve months for something you didn't have.  
'So who pays for that?'  
'The Crown,' Jon replied. 'They provide everything the Rangers need.'  
_Everything except other people ... and civilisation,_ Gendry thought, but he didn't say anything. Everything he had seen told him Jon had very willingly chosen this life. 

After Jon took his empty plate, he sat back with a sigh. 'So,' he said. 'Do you know any good tales?'  
Jon looked at him, surprised, but shook his head.  
'Shame. I know lots. Mind if I tell one? It will help the time pass.' He barely waited for Jon's small nod of agreement before starting the story. 

'Do you know the one about the Bear and the Maiden Fair?' He asked. Jon shook his head. 'Well it's really more of a song but I'll spare you my singing voice and tell it as a tale.'  
He sat up a bit straighter. 'The story starts with three boys, a goat and a bear ...'  
He watched Jon Snow as he spoke. The Ranger was sitting in his armchair by the fire, one knee brought up to his chest, with his chin resting on it. He gazed into the fire as Gendry spoke, but every now and again it looked like he smiled into his beard. And once, Gendry could have sworn his shoulders shook with silent laughter. 

\----

The next morning after breakfast, Jon held the edge of the blanket, looking up with a question.  
Gendry glanced across at him, 'what? Oh? You want to check my leg again? Yes. Definitely. It's feeling much better!'  
Jon gave him a look that said he would be the judge of that and lifted the covers. He pushed down on the leg, and it really did feel less tender that before. He seemed satisfied and pulled a shirt from a chest at the foot of the bed, throwing it to Gendry. He slipped it over his head, excitement fizzing in him.  
'Hold on to me and say if we need to stop,' Jon directed, pulling back the bedding. Gendry nodded vigorously. 

Jon pulled his legs slowly to the side of the bed, his splinted right leg hanging out awkwardly. It hurt, but not as bad as he'd feared. Then the man stood in close beside him, pulled Gendry's arm up over his shoulder and lifted him slightly up from the bed.  
His legs slid off the edge and to the floor, his splinted leg banging softly. He gasped as the feeling drove a spear of pain up his leg.  
Jon stopped, looking across at him with concern.  
'It's okay,' he gasped, desperate not to be put back in bed. 'I'll be okay. Just give me a second.'  
With Jon half carrying him, strong arm around his waist, the other clamping the arm swung over his shoulder, they moved forward a step, into the middle of the room. Gendry felt like shouting. He grinned happily.  
Jon looked across at him and his brown eyes seemed warm too. Gendry was surprised to realise they were basically the same height, the Ranger always seemed so tall and hulking in all his furs.  
'Inside or out?' he asked.  
'I can go out? As if there's even a question. I am so sick of the look of the inside of this cabin.' Jon gave him a quick look.  
'I meant, it's a nice cabin. Really nice. But when you don't have any other option but to stare at it all day long ...'  
Jon nodded, muttering something under his breath. He didn't quite catch it but he thought it sounded like, '... going to hate Winter.'

They took another few steps forward, Jon basically carrying Gendry's weight, and then they were outside in the fresh air at last. Gendry looked around, blinking in the light. The view was as magnificent as Jon had said, stretching for miles out in front of him.  
He shifted slightly, his leg beginning to throb. Jon directed him sideways to where a stump that was carved into a rough chair was sitting. He lowered him down on to it and Gendry was surprised to feel the warmth of a fur under him. Had Jon put this out earlier?  
He was grateful for it. The shirt he was wearing came nearly to his knees, but it was thin and the air was cold. Jon disappeared a moment then came back with the wooden chair from inside and a pile of furs. He sat it in front of Gendry and gently lifted his leg up onto it. Then he draped a few of the furs over him, standing back with a question in his eyes.  
'Very comfortable. Thank you. This is amazing. More than amazing. The view is just as good as you say. I envy you, waking up to this every day.'  
Jon nodded, 'if you get sore, tell me.'

\----

The next few days passed like that, Jon bringing Gendry outside to sit while he split wood or harvested vegetables or dried meat. They got into a bit of a routine. Jon would work and Gendry would talk, asking him - mostly unanswered - questions or telling him interesting pieces of information that came into his head. Sometimes Ghost came and sat beside him, keeping him company. 

Eventually Jon began sitting him at the small table inside too and he started preparing meals, glad at last to finally be less of a burden in some small way. 

\-----

One afternoon, Jon came inside and held out a branch of wood to him. It had a fork at one end and about half way down it had another branch sticking out the side. He took it, staring at it.  
‘What’s this for?’ he asked curiously.  
‘Crutch,’ Jon replied, reaching out an arm to help him to stand. He clasped hands with the Ranger and was pulled effortlessly to his feet. Once he was standing, Jon handed him the branch, and showed him how to put the fork under his shoulder and to use the branch half way down as a grip.

‘Thank you. It’s the prefect size,’ he said, looking up with a smile. ‘How did you know?’  
Jon shrugged, but he seemed pleased.  
Gendry took a few wobbly steps, Jon by his side, ready to balance him. Moving his leg still hurt, but putting all of his weight on the crutch helped. Being able to move by himself was liberating, exhilarating after a very long few days.  
He turned to Jon beside him with a huge smile.  
‘This is amazing. Thank you so much.’  
This time he knew Jon smiled back at him. He could see it in his eyes.

Later that night, as they sat in front of the fire, Gendry took the crutch across his knees, turning it this way and that.  
‘Do you have an old knife somewhere I can use for carving?’ he asked, looking across at Jon in the chair by the table. Jon raised an eyebrow, looking at him and then the piece of wood in his hands. Then he stood and went over to the bed, rummaging around under it until he came out with a short, thick blade with a solid wooden handle.  
Gendry turned it over in his hands, ’This is perfect,’ he said, admiring the little knife. He noticed a name etched into the handle, ‘Benjen?’  
Jon looked into the fire when he replied, ‘My uncle. He was a Ranger too.’  
‘Oh, is that why you decided to become one?’  
‘Partly,’ Jon said, still staring into the fire. 

Gendry waited but no more was forthcoming.  
‘Well, its a beautiful knife. I used to do a lot of wood carving when I was younger. Just silly little things,’ as he spoke he laid the blade against the crutch and peeled off the first, long shaving, flicking it into the fire. ‘Eventually I realised I liked working metal more, but I guess it’s just one of those things you never forget.’  
He looked across at Jon who was now watching his hands, watching them shape the wood.  
‘What did you like to do when you were younger?’ he asked casually, eyes on the wood again.

It was a moment before Jon spoke, as though he was trying to remember back to that time. Gendry kept his focus on his work.  
‘I liked … hunting … and riding,’ he said slowly. ‘I used to love going out with father and Robb.’ But then he stopped. Gendry glanced across at him and Jon was staring into the fire again, face closed.  
_What happened to you?_ he wondered. _What happened to make you so damned_ afraid _to speak._

But he didn't say that. Instead he said, ‘I know a story about hunting,’ and Jon’s eyes returned to him. He settled himself back into the chair, flicking curls of wood off the crutch, turning it slowly around as he spoke. ‘It’s about a King and a boar and the fall of a kingdom …’


	7. Chapter 7

**Gendry**

They fell into an easy routine together. Jon would wake first, rekindling the fire and getting the water going for tea. He'd lay a few things on the table for breakfast and Gendry would make his slow way over to chop and prepare them. They'd modified a pair of pants to remove most of the leg so he could wear them over his bandages. It was this and a shirt that he usually wore, with a thicker fur when he ventured outside a short way. 

He'd taken a quick wash with a cold cloth a few days before, hurrying before Jon returned from some task outside, but part of him longed for a long, hot bath ... to feel fully clean again.   
But there were no baths in the small cabin. Surprisingly it didn't feel as small as it had first appeared. The two of them fitted into the space well together, moving around each other comfortably, even despite Gendry's crutch.  
Gendry found he didn't talk as much now, sometimes content to just sit and let the silence speak. He also found that Jon was easier with his words, though he was still to actually initiate a conversation. 

The days were taken up with the last preparations for Winter, and by the fire at night they told stories - or Gendry told stories. Jon still maintained he didn't know any. Their companionship was becoming easy, something Gendry didn't have to think about, something he hadn't experienced before. 

It came as a shock when Jon came back in one morning after breakfast and said, 'It will snow tonight.'  
Gendry looked at him, not realising the season had moved so quickly.  
‘Snow? But it can’t snow, yet. I still have to get back down to the lowlands.’   
Jon shrugged, looking at him with something that looked a bit like pity.  
‘You don’t understand,’ he said. ‘I can’t be stuck here all Winter. How far from the nearest town are we?’  
‘A week’s hike,’ Jon said softly. He was getting better at hearing the words the other man left unsaid. _It's a week’s walk if you're fit and pushing hard. You couldn't do it alone. If I take you, I'll never make it back home before the snows set in._

He sat, stunned, his mind whirling around this new information. He was stuck here. He was stuck here all Winter - the next three months or more. Stuck in a hut he could basically touch the edges of, with a single man for company. A man who barely spoke. _And Ghost_ , his mind supplied unhelpfully.   
'Are you shitting me? I CAN'T be stuck here all Winter ... no sane man could!' he repeated in frustration, as if that would make some difference.   
Jon looked at him, and then moved to the door, 'I'm sorry,' he said softly before he stepped outside.   
Suddenly Gendry's frustration drained away. He shouldn't have said that. He'd upset Jon. The man had taken him in, basically let him take over his house, and now he'd acted like spending the Winter with him was the worst thing he could imagine and insinuated that he was insane for living how he did. 

He stood up, grabbing his crutch, tucking it under his arm and hobbling for the door. He looked outside, but Jon was nowhere in sight. Ghost looked up at him reproachfully from where he was lying in the pale sunlight.   
'I know, I know,' Gendry muttered. 'I fucked up.'  
He turned and went back into the cabin, tidying and putting away a few things. When he was done, Jon still hadn't returned. He sat heavily in the armchair by the fire - Jon's chair, which he had given to Gendry because it was the more comfortable one. He felt worse at this reminder.   
He pulled his crutch to himself, rubbing his hand over the smooth horns he'd carved from the fork and the long bull's head he'd carved down the shaft. 

The feeling of the smooth wood gave him an idea. Jon had been so intrigued by his carving, taking the crutch from him and admiring it at every angle when he was done. He pushed himself out of the chair and hobbled outside, picking up a piece of wood that would meet his needs. He collected his little knife - Jon's knife, he reminded himself - and sat on his stump outside, laying the blade against the wood. 

It was dark before Jon came home. Gendry had a pot cooking over the fire, and Jon entered wordlessly, shrugging out of his cloak and hanging it by the door. Gendry offered him a bowl of stew and he took it, not speaking, not meeting his eyes. Gendry waited until he'd finished eating, then held one hand out to him, palm closed. He thought, nervously, about what to say, then he just started.   
'I'm sorry,' he said softly. 'I didn't mean to insult you. All you've done is look after me and be generous to me. I know having me here must be the worst thing you can imagine, and the idea of being stuck with me all Winter must be a nightmare, but you haven't said a thing about it since I arrived.'  
Now he hesitated, uncurling his hand.   
'I - ah - made you this,' he said, almost shyly. 'To say sorry.'

For the first time, Jon looked across at him, eyes dropping to his hand. Then his hard face softened slightly and he reached out to pick up the small figurine, turning it over in his hands. It was a tiny version of Ghost, carved from white Ash. He was sitting on his haunches, head cocked to one side the way he did sometimes when he was watching you. And his face had the tiniest hint of a smile.   
Jon looked up to meet Gendry's eyes, and he felt guilt wrack him again at the lingering hurt that was reflected in that gaze. 

'It's not,' Jon said  
'What?' Gendry asked, confused.   
'Having you here is not the worst thing I can imagine.' He cast his eyes down again at these words, clutching his fingers protectively over the small wolf.   
Gendry didn't know what to say to that, so he stood, awkwardly, clearing the plates away. Jon put out the lanterns and took the seat he'd been in, making it clear that he was ready for sleep. Gendry took the hint, pulling himself up into the big bed. But he couldn't sleep. He wondered just what the worst thing Jon Snow could imagine was, and if that was his way of saying he didn't mind Gendry's company. 

Across the room, lit only by the flickering glow of the fire, he could see Jon moving in his chair as well, and hear the occasional frustrated sigh. 

It was a long time before either of them fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Jon**

_2nd day of the 6th moon after re-supply_  
_Food stores: high_  
_Water supply: clear_  
_Wood supply: high_  
_Weather: it's snowing now, the first of the season._  
_Sightings: none_  
_Observations:_

_This man drives me mad. One moment he is full of laughter and questions and smiles. Then next he says he will go crazy if left here with me for the Winter. What does he expect from me? I can't take him out of the mountains. I don't even know why he came here to start with._ ~~It would be better if he had never come.~~

 _He carved me Ghost. It's a tiny little Ghost, to sit in my pocket and travel around with me always ... I don't know the last time someone gave me a gift. I think it may have been Arya, before she left. She gave me a coin and told me I could find her through the words_ Valar Morghulis. _All men must die indeed. Ah, little sister ... why did you have to go?_

_I'm sure Gendry would have some story about a woman who went away over the seas and never returned. He reminds me of Old Nan with her stories. He has so many. Every night a different one. Sometimes I wonder if he just pulls them out of the air the way Old Nan used to do. Some new story you'd never heard before._

_He reminds me of Old Nan, and better times, and home. It hurts._

_But somehow, I am still glad the snows have come._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Lottie_emerald ... hope this meets your expectations

**Gendry**

The next morning, when he woke, the light seemed different. He opened the door to go outside and relieve himself and was amazed to see thick, fluffy blobs of snow, drifting softly from the sky. The ground was coated in a powdery layer.  
He turned back inside to Jon, who was just stirring from his place in his chair.  
'Jon! It's snowing!' he said, wonder in his voice, forgetting the words of the day before.  
Jon cocked a sleepy eyebrow at him, 'it's going to do a lot of that ...'  
'It's beautiful. I didn't think it would be so beautiful!'  
Jon eyes crinkled as he smiled a little, despite himself. 'I thought being stuck here all Winter was a fate worse than death?'  
Gendry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, looking out over the snow. 'I may have been a little hasty in my words.' He thought about apologising again but Jon moved on.  
'You'll need to wear a boot every day from now. And a thick sock over your toes on the sore leg.'  
Gendry nodded, moving back to the bed to dress for the weather outside.  
Jon followed him outside and Gendry delighted in the way the snow crunched under foot, sinking him into it. There was only a thin layer now, but already he could see it would be hard going with his crutch when it got deeper. He tilted his head up, watching the flakes fall from the sky and smiling as they brushed his face.  
Next moment he flinched and cried out as a big, wet ball of snow hit him in the chest. 

Leaning in the doorway of the hut was Jon, brushing his hands off, and Gendry couldn't see but he could have put money on the fact Jon was smirking. He tried to reach down to grab some snow himself, but couldn't manage it with his crutch.  
'Oh that's right,' he said in mock outrage, standing back up. 'Pick on the cripple why don't you.' Jon just stooped for more snow and Gendry hurried to hobble his way back inside, copping another one on the way in. He poked his tongue out at Jon as he passed through the door and Jon chuckled, his eyes warm. Suddenly they were okay again. 

After breakfast Gendry said, 'I was thinking about a few things last night. If I'm going to be here for the next few months ...' he paused, not sure how to put it, and Jon looked across at him, eyes attentive. 'Well you've given your bed up to me. You can't keep sleeping in a chair, it's ridiculous. The bed's huge, plenty big enough for two. I'm just saying you shouldn't sleep in the chair anymore.' He looked at Jon waiting for his response.  
Jon thought about it a moment, then nodded, and his eyes showed his gratitude. Gendry wondered just how uncomfortable that chair was to sleep in.  
He nodded too, to settle it, then itched at his face, rubbing his hand over the beard that was coming in thickly.  
‘Another thing. Can I have a blade and a tub of hot water?’ he asked. ‘I’m sick of this itch. If I'm going to stay here for the Winter I need a shave, and a proper wash.’ Jon looked across at him, eyes ghosting over his face briefly, before reaching down to the knife at his waist and handing it over. He stood and rummaged for a moment before he found a small linen cloth, a bar of soap and a water bucket, which he tipped a bit into from the pot heating near the fire, balancing it out from the jug on the table.

He packed up a few things then went to step out the door, pulling his furs around him. He hesitated a moment, then turned, saying, 'if you're going to wash, it might be easier with the bandages off. I was thinking of checking your ribs anyway.'  
Gendry nodded, 'Great idea.' He reached down to tug his shirt up and over his shoulders awkwardly, still sitting in the chair. Jon came to kneel in front of him, reaching out to tug on an end of the bandage around his chest and beginning to unwind it slowly, swaying in closer to Gendry to pass it around his back as he did so. Gendry watched the top of Jon's head, smelling that pine needle smell again. How did the man manage to stay so clean? He always smelled good. Gendry had never seen him wash. He gave himself a mental shake. What sort of question was that to ask?

Finally the last of the bandage dropped free and Gendry's chest felt strange not to have the support wrapped around it. Jon nudged his elbow with soft fingers, asking him to raise his arm. He did and Jon bent closer, running one hand gently hand down his ribs, pushing softly.  
Gendry shivered slightly under the touch. It felt strange to have bare skin moving over his. At the movement, Jon looked up at him.  
'Does it hurt?' he asked.  
Gendry shook his head, 'not at all.' Jon returned his gaze to the ribs, pushing harder. Gendry grunted a little but the pain was only a dull one.  
Jon looked up with a question in his eyes.  
Gendry shook his head again. 'Hurts a little but it's bearable.'  
Jon nodded, sitting back on his heels. 'The bruising is mostly gone. I think you were lucky and you maybe cracked one, but didn't break any. You can leave the bandages off if you want?'  
Gendry broke into a huge grin, 'seriously? That's fantastic!'  
Jon smiled back at him and stood up. 'Do you need anything?' He asked.  
When Gendry shook his head, Jon moved out the door saying, 'I'm going to check a few snares. I'll be about an hour.'

When he closed the door, Gendry tested the edge of the knife with his thumb. It was razor sharp. He grunted with satisfaction and began to cut the ends off his hair, grown down his neck these past few months. He threw them in the fire as he worked, wrinkling his nose at the smell of burning hair. Then he lathered up the soap and shaved carefully by feel. When it was done he felt better, more civilised. Finally he removed his pants and stood awkwardly in front of the fire, the bucket of water on the table beside him. He washed slowly with the hot water, cleaning his face, neck, chest. His movement felt a bit stiff but it was so good to take the time to get properly clean. He soaped down over his groin, careful not to get the bandages on his leg wet. Those definitely weren’t ready to come off. He paused for a moment, cock hanging heavy in his hand, and thought about just how long it had been since he’d … but then he pushed the thought away. He couldn’t do that standing in another man’s house, when he might return at any time. He finished washing himself quickly, sitting again to do his good leg, and then dried himself roughly with his shirt and pulled on a clean one, as well as his pants again.

When Jon returned later, Gendry was sitting by the fire, warm and clean and happy. He thanked Jon for the blade, handing it back. He tried to ignore the way the other man's eyes lingered on his newly-shaved face.  
The Ranger disappeared outside not long afterward and Gendry made himself comfortable at the table, leaning his crutch against the wall and pulling some vegetables towards himself to start on an afternoon meal. 

When Jon re-entered the hut a while later, Gendry looked around to ask him whether there was any curry powder left. His voice died in his throat and he just _stared_. Jon was dressed in just a creamy linen shirt, open at the neck, and leather breeches. The shirt clung to his upper body, defining his muscled shoulders and smooth, toned chest. Gendry hadn’t realised that under all those layers of furs, he was so well-built. He had cut his hair too. The wild, unruly shoulder-length mess was cut up closer to his head, still longer than Gendry's, but less tangled, more shaped. It was still wet, as though he'd dunked his head in water. The ends were dripping onto his shirt. The look suited him, but it was his face that held Gendry's attention. He'd shaved. The thick, bushy black beard that took up half his face was gone. He'd trimmed it back to a few strips that hugged his jaw and around his mouth. And that _mouth_. His face was chiselled, his cheekbones sharp, his jaw strong, his lips full.  
Jon shifted self-consciously under his stare and Gendry snapped his eyes away, reddening. Where had those thoughts come from?

He cleared his throat and turned back to the pot on the table.  
'Do you have more - ah - curry power?' he asked. Jon nodded, dropping his things on the chair and moving over to the table. He reached up into the cupboard above the table, feeling around on the top shelf. He was standing close enough that Gendry could smell the faint hint of pine he carried, but underneath it a warmer, more masculine scent. As he'd reached, the edge of his shirt had pulled up, revealing a small strip of skin above his hip. Gendry's eyes were drawn to it, and his mouth was suddenly dry. 

He shook himself mentally, pulling his eyes away. Where the hell was this coming from? He thought back to earlier, standing in the front of the fire, cock in hand, the temptation to _stroke_ … _it’s just been far too long since I’ve been with a woman_ , he thought, resolutely. _Far too long since I’ve even been with_ **myself**. Jon handed the curry powder to him and he busied himself with finishing the meal. He didn’t comment on the other man’s change in appearance, but over the rest of the day he found his eyes straying to Jon’s face more than once. He just looked so _different_. Younger, but also stronger, more noble somehow. And his face was a lot more expressive than Gendry had realised. He was surprised when he caught a look of interest, or laughter on Jon’s face that he hadn’t realised was there before. It made Gendry wonder once again what sort of a man was hiding under the layers of isolation the Ranger had placed on himself.

It wasn’t until it came time for bed that things got awkward once more. Jon hesitated in front of the chair, and Gendry remembered his words from that morning about it being crazy for him to have the large bed alone while Jon spent the Winter on a chair.  
‘So - ah -,’ he started, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the bed. He thought back to his unexpected reaction to Jon earlier that day and wondered if he would come to regret the offer. ‘Which side do you sleep on?’  
Jon looked over to the bed, seeming strangely hesitant as well, for all his gratitude that morning.  
‘I normally sleep on the edge nearest the fire,’ he said softly. His eyes dropped to Gendry’s leg and he saw the sense in that arrangement. That would put him on Gendry’s right side, and keep his leg safe from accidental knocks, as he lay against the wall.  
Gendry, dropped his pants - as he always did - so he could sleep in just a shirt. But at a quick glance from Jon he wondered whether he should have done so. Then Jon came over to the bed as well, blowing out lanterns as he moved. His hands moved to the laces of his breeches and he pulled them down. He pulled his thicker jacket off and lay it over a chair, standing in just that creamy shirt from earlier. It hung to mid-thigh.

Gendry turned away from him and climbed awkwardly up into the bed, manoeuvring his leg so he was lying close by the wall.  
Jon climbed in beside him, lying on the edge beside the fire. He pulled the thick layers of furs up over both of them. There was almost two body widths of space between them, and Gendry relaxed slightly. Then he chided himself for being tense in the first place. He was being ridiculous, like a shy maid coming to bed for the very first time. This was nothing more than a practical arrangement. He was glad Jon couldn’t hear the thoughts that had been washing around in his head half the day. He’d probably turf him out the door.

Gendry closed his eyes and tried for sleep, lying on his back. Then he opened them again, looking up at the roof of the cabin, illuminated by the flickering fire light. Jon was lying on his side, facing the fire.  
‘Night Jon,’ he said softly.  
‘Night Gen,’ the other man murmured in reply.  
It was a while before Gendry fell asleep, but when he did, his last thoughts were of warm brown eyes, with a hint of laughter in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow burn is still slow lol
> 
> I need some help for the next bit. Please prompt me a question you want Jon to ask Gendry or Gen to ask Jon ... we're going to play a little game.
> 
> @theonsfavouritetoy and @babydoll9498 the washing you're after will come. I promise ... eventually lol


	10. Chapter 10

**Gendry**

He awoke early the next morning to a sense of warmth and comfort he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He blinked his eyes open sleepily and became aware of the feeling of a hot, hard body stretched down the length of his, and a strong, muscled arm thrown over his torso. He looked down to see the top of Jon’s head, pillowed on his shoulder. His first thought was, _Jon Snow is a cuddler … I would not have picked that_. His second thought was an enhanced awareness of just how good the body laying alongside his felt. He shifted slightly, trying to move further away, not wanting to encourage those thoughts any further. Jon reacted to his movement by tightening his arm around Gendry’s chest and nuzzling his face into his neck with a sleepy murmur. 

Gendry froze. A second later, Jon must have woken up, because the arm was withdrawn and he rolled away, slipping all the way out of bed. Gendry closed his eyes again and pretended to be asleep. He could hear Jon dressing quickly then the door opened, letting in a blast of icy air. When he heard it close he opened his eyes, exhaling a deep breath. What had that been? It didn’t mean anything - people couldn’t help what they did when they were asleep. He forced away the lingering sensation of Jon’s body stretched out against his, and slowly pulled himself out of bed as well.

When Jon came back into the cabin a little while later, he didn’t mention the incident, so Gendry decided to leave it alone as well. They had months of being stuck together in a small space. Making things awkward was _not_ a good idea. That reminded him,  
‘So how does this work? Once it snows are we stuck inside until it melts?’ he asked, as they ate.  
Jon shook his head with a small smile. ‘It’s still snowing now and looks like it will settle in for a while, but just like any weather, the snow comes and goes. Sometimes you have crystal clear days and the whole world looks like a frozen dream. The only weather we can’t go out in is a blizzard. We’ll have a few of those, but you can generally tell when they’re coming. And I don’t like to be out at night either.’  
Gendry nodded, feeling a bit of relief. He really didn’t know if he had the mental strength to be locked inside for months without break.  
‘Can I go outside with this?’ he asked, tapping his leg. Jon glanced down at it.  
‘That should be ok. As long as we wrap your leg with furs and make sure your toes are protected. I can break a few trails so you don’t need to put too much effort into the walking.’  
Gendry smiled his thanks. 

After breakfast they all went out, Jon to check his water supplies and see how much snow was banking up around the cabin and Gendry to take a short walk, conscious that he needed to keep the rest of his body healthy. Ghost ran off into the trees and they didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

—— 

The first few days of the snows went like that. The would go to bed on the far sides of the mattress and in the morning Gendry would wake up in the middle with Jon wrapped around him. The Ranger would leave the bed before he did and Gendry would pretend he wasn’t aware of it. Jon never suggested he should go back to the chair, and Gendry didn't want to raise the issue and make things strange ... besides, if he was totally honest with himself, he didn't actually _dislike_ the situation.  
They spent as much time outside as they could during the day and at night they sat quietly by the fire, reading or telling stories, Ghost at their feet.

On the third night after the snowfall, Gendry sighed, ’That's it,' he said, snapping his book shut. 'I can't read that again. "Blue eyed ice demons" ... seriously.'  
Jon looked at him like he wanted to say something in return, but he didn't comment. Gendry stood up and looked around.  
'I actually never thought to ask ... when you brought me here, did you bring my pack?' he asked hopefully.  
Jon nodded, 'it's under the bed.'  
Gendry grinned and lowered himself to the ground awkwardly, reaching under the bed to haul on the bag.  
'I'm pretty sure ...' he grunted, as he tugged on the straps, 'I have a couple of books in here. They're only about mineral identification and properties, but they're better than nothing I guess.'

He rummaged around, pulling items out. Then his hand closed on a small wooden box and he cried out in delight.  
'I forgot I had these,' he said, spilling the playing cards into his hand. He shoved everything else back in the bag, books forgotten, and heaved himself to his feet.  
'Ever played Vingt-un?' He asked, dropping himself into the chair at the table and gesturing Jon over. He stood slowly, dragging his own chair forward.  
'Not in a very long time ... Robb and I used to get in trouble from father when we gambled with the men.'  
Gendry looked at him, wondering, not for the first time what Jon Snow's story was. He clearly hadn't had the same sort of upbringing Gendry had. Then a thought came to him, and he smiled. 

'It's easy, you'll remember it. The aim is to get a hand each round where the numbers on the cards add up to twenty-one, or as close to. If you go over you're bust and the other player wins. I'll deal first.'  
He shuffled the cards, looking at Jon. 'What should we bet for?'  
Jon looked at him, then around the room, shrugging, 'who has to wash up tonight?'  
Gendry shook his head. 'I've got a better idea. Let's bet for questions.'  
Jon looked confused.  
'If I win, I get to ask you a question, and you have to answer. If you win, you can ask me a question - anything you want.'  
Jon frowned slightly. 'How can you have any questions left? Surely you've asked me every single question in existence.'  
Gendry just laughed and dealt the first hand. 'Agreed?'

Jon shrugged, resigned, and picked up his cards. He had a five and a seven. He called for another card, got a ten and went bust. He laid his cards down in front of him and Gendry showed fifteen.  
He sighed and looked a Gendry almost apprehensively. Gendry smiled, deciding to start slowly.  
'How did you get Ghost?' He asked and was happy to see Jon relax slightly at the question, sitting back in his chair.  
‘We found him - and all his litter mates - when he was a pup.’  
Gendry looked at him, an eyebrow raised, clearly expecting more.  
Jon went on, ‘Their mother had been killed by a stag, and the six of them were just cowering there in the woods. So we kept them, one each. Ghost was the runt and he was white like snow … so he was mine.’  
‘How long ago was that?’ Gendry asked.  
Jon looked at him, a slight challenge in his eyes, ‘Don’t you have to win another round to ask that?’

Gendry chuckled and dealt again. He won again, nineteen to Jon’s seventeen.  
‘How long ago was that?’ he asked with a grin.  
Jon stuck his tongue out briefly and Gendry chuckled. Playfulness was something that looked good on him.  
‘It was …. I was seventeen … so it was ten years ago.’  
Gendry raised an eyebrow at him, ‘So you were twenty when you became a Ranger?’  
Jon looked at him, with laughing eyes. ‘I don’t think you understand how this game works,’ he said.  
Gendry made a face at him and dealt again. This time he went bust and Jon won.  
Jon looked at him, and now Gendry felt a tinge of apprehension. Jon hadn’t really asked him anything about himself since he’d been here. What might he want to know?

‘How did you fall?’ Jon asked.  
Gendry relaxed, that was easy. ‘I was being an idiot and looking ahead when I should have been looking down. I’d been walking around in the Gift for a few months by the point and I guess I just got complacent and stopped watching myself as much as I should have. Damn stupid thing to do - would have got me killed if it wasn’t for you.’  
Jon acknowledged his words with a small nod and indicated he should deal again.

Gendry won and asked Jon, ‘Where are you from - before here?’  
At this question, a look of sadness passed across Jon’s face. Gendry almost regretted asking, but didn’t take it back. He had a feeling that if he didn’t push Jon to talk, there would be things he would never know about the other man.  
‘Winterfell … it’s about 600 miles south of here.’ He smiled wryly, ‘It’s strange to be somewhere that Winterfell is considered south of.’

Gendry won again and asked, ‘What is Winterfell like? Why were you there?’  
Jon looked at him, ‘That’s two questions.’ But he answered anyway. ‘It’s a wonderful place. I used to run all over the castle and grounds when I was a boy, playing in the towers, the stables, the smithy, even the crypts … why was I there …’ he hesitated, and his face was uncertain, then he seemed to come to a decision and went on, speaking softly. ‘I was there because my father was Lord Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell … he brought me home with him when I was a baby, and that’s where I stayed, with the rest of his family.’  
Gendry looked at him, stunned to receive a piece of information that was clearly so personal. ‘That must have been tough,’ he said.  
Jon shrugged, ‘Parts of it were. Lady Catelyn - my father’s wife - never really took to me. I don’t blame her. And one of my sisters was the same. But mostly I had a good life … better than a lot of people.’ Gendry thought back to his own childhood, begging for scraps in Flea Bottom, and he had to agree.

Jon seemed to pick up on his thoughts. He won the next round and returned the favour, ‘Where are you from and how did you grow up?  
‘You’ve heard of King’s Landing?’ Gendry asked. Jon nodded and Gendry felt a little silly - if he’d grown up in a castle as a Lord’s son - even a bastard - he would have had a proper education. ‘So I grew up in the slums of the Landing, place called Flea Bottom. My mum was a tavern wench - she died when I was young, and I never knew my father - we have that in common. Soon as I could get out of there I started hanging around the smithy’s. Eventually pestered one of them into making me a ‘prentice. After that, life was better.’

Jon nodded and Gendry dealt again. They traded questions back and forth, finding out more about each other’s histories and experiences. The Gendry won again and decided to mix things up.

‘How many women have you been with?’  
Jon looked at him and to Gendry’s surprise, his face reddened, ‘One,’ he muttered.  
Gendry looked at him in stunned surprise. ‘You - who looks like _that_ ,’ he gestured to Jon’s face and then expanded the gesture down his body ‘- has only been with one woman? I don’t believe it. I need more information.’  
Jon’s face went redder and Gendry realised how his comment sounded. He felt his cheeks pinken slightly too, but he didn’t retract his words. This, he needed to hear.  
‘Her name was Ygritte … it was a time in my life where I was rebelling against my family, the values I’d been taught by my father. Before that, I wanted to - sometimes it killed me how much I wanted to … but I was always worried-‘ at this he cut off and looked down at the table, fiddling with the edges of his cards.  
Gendry made a soft, encouraging sound and Jon looked up, meeting his eyes for a moment, then looking back to the cards.  
‘Robb and Theon always used to laugh at me - Theon especially - but I just couldn’t go down into Winter Town and take a tumble with some girl. I was so worried I would make a bastard baby in some woman’s belly. I didn’t want any child to grow up like I had, not knowing one parent.’  
Gendry looked at Jon with a lot more understanding, and a lot more respect, than he’d had before. The moral certainty it took to hold to celibacy through your early years … well he certainly didn’t have that strength. It helped to explain how Jon could live his life out here like he did.

‘And … Ygritte, was it?’ Jon nodded, eyes darting up to meet Gendry’s, then away. ‘What changed?’  
Jon was quiet for a long time, and Gendry thought he wasn’t going to answer, then he started speaking softly, still looking down at his hands.  
‘I - Father went away, and took my sisters with him. My brother, Bran, was badly hurt, but Lady Stark wouldn't let me near him. Robb went to war but didn't want me with him. I just - there wasn't a place for me - the bastard. After all those years and all those bonds - everyone was moving into the world of the true born Starks and I was being left behind. I couldn't deal with it. So I left. I went to find my Uncle Benjen, but before I found him I found Ygritte, and Tormund and a bunch of Wildlings and ... for a while I went a bit wild too.'

Gendry was just watching now. Jon was lost in his own thoughts. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to Gendry, and the other man wondered whether he had _ever_ spoken some of this stuff out loud.  
'By the time I came to my senses and realised that I couldn't live that life, be that person, it was too late. I wasn't there for any of them when they needed me and then they were gone. Father was dead, Lady Catelyn was dead, Robb was dead, Rikkon was dead, Sansa was trapped in a life I have no power to change, Bran - I didn't even recognise what Bran had become. And Arya ... she couldn't stay in Westeros after what she'd seen and what she'd done. So she left. I begged her not to go but she left.' His voice was just a whisper now, his eyes unseeing, shining with unshed tears. Gendry reached out to place a gently hand over Jon's and it seemed to break him from his trance. He sat back, wiping roughly at his eyes. Gendry could see the moment when he started to regret his words.  
'Hey,' he said softly. Jon looked up, not quite meeting his eyes. 'Thank you,' he said. 'Thank you for telling me that.'  
He gathered the cards up, giving Jon a moment to collect himself. 'I think that's enough for tonight. Let's go to bed.'  
Jon gave a small nod, his focus still turned inwards. 

Gendry didn't know what time it was when Jon's cries woke him in the night. The other man was muttering and thrashing, in the grips of a nightmare. He reached out blindly, across the sheets, until he felt Jon's shoulder.  
'Jon,' he called softly. 'Jon, wake up. It's just a dream. You're safe here, it's just a dream.'  
He pulled against Jon's shoulder and the other man shuddered into wakefulness. Gendry gently urged him closer and Jon curled in against his side, breathing in gulps. Gendry put an arm around him and rubbed soothingly at his back, Jon gasped little sobs as he got himself slowly under control. Gendry could feel the wetness of tears through his shirt and he kept up the soothing murmurs, barely conscious of his words.  
'It's okay, you're safe now. You're awake. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. That's it, deep breaths.'  
Eventually Jon's breathing calmed and deepened and he fell asleep. Gendry lay in the dark for a long time afterwards, his heart breaking for the pain and loneliness the man in his arms held inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG ALL the feels ... that got so much deeper than I expected it to when I started writing.
> 
> Would love thoughts from you all :)
> 
> Perfect timing on the Valley of the Horses thought process for the bad dream @theonsfavouritetoy ;)
> 
> I know I was keen on question prompts for this section but I got carried away with writing it ... if anyone still has one I could edit it into the section that's about them swapping stories and learning more about each other.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Jon**

_8th day of the 6th moon after re-supply_  
_Food stores: high enough for a short winter, but feeding two mouths is making an impact._  
_Water supply: clear_  
_Wood supply: high_  
_Weather: it's been snowing heavily the last week but I've kept it shovelled away from the the walls._  
_Sightings: none_  
_Observations:_

_Something’s changed since that night. The things I said ... I've never told anyone those things - even Ygritte. It's been so long since I even_ thought _them. But there's something about him that makes me let my guard down. That makes the words come easier. I know I should be careful - he'll be gone when the snows melt ... but sometimes that seems like a lifetime away._

_He watches me sometimes, when he thinks I'm not looking. He watches me, but I don't know what it means. It's been so very long since I was around people ... and Gendry's not like any people I've ever met._

_I wake up wrapped around him every morning. I don't mean to ... or maybe I do. It feels so good to lie against another person. I'd forgotten the comfort of human contact.  
I know he's aware of it, but he doesn't say anything ... doesn't try to stop me, tell me to go back to the chair. But he doesn't acknowledge it either. Does he want me to leave him alone and he's just too polite to say it?_

_People are confusing. Words are confusing. Doing is so much easier than saying ... but what is it that I want to do?_

_All I know is that my bed will seem very empty when he's gone._


	12. Chapter 12

**Gendry**

He found himself so much more aware of Jon after that night. Just little things, like wondering what he might be thinking, or coming up with a new story, just to see if it would make him smile, or sometimes … just wanting to reach out and _touch_ him as he passed. It was the last impulse that confused him the most. He couldn’t fathom how he had become so close to the other man in such a short time, and he didn’t know what to do about how much closer he wanted to be.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend like you, Jon Snow,’ he said one long night, as they sat by the fire. Jon looked up from the book he’d been reading - one of Gendry’s about mineral properties - eyes surprised. Gendry could read the word in them, _friends?_  
‘I don’t think there’s anyone in the world I’ve felt as comfortable with as I do with you,’ he continued, trying to speak aloud the thoughts that had been swirling inside him. Jon smiled at that statement, a small, pleased smile that sent a thread of warmth through Gendry’s chest. It didn’t surprise him anymore. Lots of things Jon did nowadays were bringing out reactions like that in him.

‘How long have I been here?’ he asked, and Jon thought for a moment.  
’Almost four weeks now? Bit under,’ he replied.  
Gendry looked at him, amazed, ‘Only four weeks? It feels like so much longer than that. I’ve known people at the Citadel four _years_ and shared less with them than I have with you.’  
Jon shrugged, still smiling softly. ’Time moves differently out here, there’s less distractions. And the isolation … two people alone, it does funny things to you.’ He paused, looking awkward, and then continued. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I think people call to people, you know? There’s just something about humans that makes us want to be around each other, open up to each other … it’s been a lot of years since I’ve felt that need.’  
His eyes were deep and brown and there was a hint of vulnerability in them. Gendry felt that thread of warmth in his chest expanding. The idea that Jon - so hell bent on being alone - wanted to be around _him_ , to open up to _him_ was humbling. It pulled at something in his own chest in return.

He wanted to ask Jon if he would change his mind one day about wanting to be out here at all … but that thought seemed too big … too soon, when he didn’t even know what he might want the answer to be. So instead he changed the subject, back to more familiar ground.

'So have you got a story for us tonight?' he asked with a small grin, as he always did. Jon considered him for a moment, the look on his face intense, but unreadable. Gendry was about to launch into his own story when Jon said, 'actually I do.'  
Gendry looked at him, surprised, then settled back into his chair with a look of satisfaction on his face.  
'Excellent,' he said, gesturing to Jon. 'You have my undivided attention.'  
Jon looked down, trying to remember where to start.  
'This is a story about hospitality, about guest rights and about honour ... it started one day many years ago when a King paid a visit to a castle called the Nightfort ...

Jon watched the fire as he spoke and Gendry watched Jon, lost in the way the firelight reflected off his skin, the way his mouth wrapped around the words, the seriousness of his face. 

'... It wasn't for murder the gods cursed the Rat Cook, or for serving the King's son in a pie ... he killed a guest beneath his roof ... and that's something the gods can't forgive.'  
With that last line, he looked back up from the fire to meet Gendry's eyes solemnly.  
Gendry felt a chill creep up his spine. 'Seriously?' He half laughed, half shivered. 'I've been telling you stories about heroes and jousting and hunting and happy endings for _weeks_ and you come out with a story about a crazy guy who killed a prince, cooked him in a pie and served him to his father. _Then_ got turned into a rat to haunt the castle like a creeper for eternity _eating his own children_?'  
Jon shrugged, a grin on his face. 'Well I guess when you put it like that ...'  
Gendry laughed at the look of mischief in his eyes. 'I like it,' he said. 'You'll have to tell it again so I can add it to my collection.'  
He thought about the story again. 'So I guess that means I'm safe here as a guest ... unless you want to be turned into a huge white rat?' he joked.  
Jon nodded at him, face serious again, 'you'll always be safe here,' he murmured, looking down at his hands and then glancing shyly back up at Gendry. 

Gendry felt a flush run through him with those words. He had no idea how to read Jon. Sometimes he seemed so distant - so determined to cut himself off from the world - and sometimes he said things like that and made Gendry wonder about what went on in the spaces between his silences. 

In bed that night Gendry was still awake when Jon rolled over and sleepily curled himself around his body. The smell of him, the warmth of him, the feeling of him … they were all becoming a delicious torment, an itch he couldn’t scratch. He thought back to their conversation that night. He didn’t really have any idea whether Jon thought of him in that way … what he thought of the idea that they might … If he misjudged things - if he made a move that was unwanted … well the rest of the long, cold Winter would not be near as pleasant as it was now. _Keep it in your pants, Waters_ , he chided himself. _Don’t fuck this up._

\----

The weather cleared a few days later and they both welcomed the chance to get outside the cabin for a while. Ghost generally went in and out as he pleased, but even he seemed happy with the crisp, still day. Jon left the door open, despite the cold air flowing in.  
‘We’ll have a big fire tonight,’ he said, to Gendry’s questioning look. ‘Trust me, you don’t want to be living here at the end of Winter if we don’t leave the doors open when we can.’ Gendry thought about that a moment and made a face.  
‘That reminds me,’ he said. ‘I could do with another good wash down.’  
‘No problems,’ Jon said, glancing across at him, giving him a swift up and down. ‘I -ah - haven’t ranged the pass properly in a few weeks. I should probably take the day to do it while it’s clear. Give you some privacy.’  
Gendry suppressed the stab of disappointment at those words, pushing his mind to other things. Safer things.

'What do you look for when you’re ranging?’ he asked, curiously.  
Jon looked across at him, seeming to be debating what he might say. ‘When we’re assigned we’re told just to look for anything unusual, out of the ordinary, movement where there shouldn’t be. We’re told to look North, always North. Most Rangers think we’re looking for Wildling groups wanting to move South.’

Gendry heard the unsaid words in the statement.  
‘But?’ he asked.  
‘But,’ Jon said, with a hint of reluctance, ‘But I think it’s more than that … I think the Rangers were set here … even maybe the Wall was set here … to watch for something worse than Wildlings.’ He seemed embarassed at his words, glancing sideways at Gendry.  
‘Something worse?’ Gendry asked.  
‘You’ve read the tales in those books I gave you … where I grew up, we were told there’s a hint of truth in every tale.’  
Gendry looked at him, eyes wide, ‘You’re patrolling against blue eyed ice demons?’ he asked incredulously.  
Jon shrugged, face closing up again, ‘I’m patrolling for anything out of the ordinary.’  
Gendry looked at him, not sure what to think at that revelation. Then he looked beyond Jon and out over the Deep Lake pass, out into the vast reaches of the wild North that lay beyond it. Thousands of leagues of unchartered, uncivilised land. 

He looked back at Jon, at the seriousness of his face, of his stance. He offered a small smile. ‘I hope you don’t find anything.’  
Jon seemed to accept that as the peace offering it was. ‘I’ll be back late afternoon,’ he said. ‘The weather will hold for the next few days by the looks of it. If you wanted to take a walk a little ways you wouldn’t have any problems.’  
Gendry nodded his thanks, leaning on his crutch.

When Jon was gone, Ghost padding ahead of him, he did as the Ranger had suggested, walking slowly out of the clearing, leaning on his crutch with every step. His thigh ached still but only after he’d been exerting himself more than usual or been out in the cold too long. Sometimes he wondered how it was healing, wondered when he would be able to remove the bandages and the splint and whether he would be able to walk on it when he did. Jon seemed to know what he was doing though, so all he could do was trust for now and not push too hard.

He returned to the cabin soon after, pulling the door closed and putting more wood on the fire, moving around the space, tidying up until it was warm inside again. Then he took the water off the fire and poured it into a bucket, pulling his clothes off, and deciding as he did so that he needed to wash some that afternoon. He stood with one hand on the table, balancing his weight to keep it off his leg. With his other hand he dipped the washcloth in the bucket, soaping it up as he stood in front of the flames, and he wiped it over his face, sighing in pleasure at the heat of the water and the fresh, scrubbed clean feeling it left behind. He soaped it again, rubbing it down over his chest, arms, stomach. He wrung it out then dipped lower, glancing at the closed door.

He rubbed the cloth down over his stomach, rubbing down between his legs. He glanced at the door again, then put the cloth back into the bucket, returning his hand to himself, soapy and warm. He sighed as he closed his hand around his cock, already semi-hard. He stroked one long, firm stroke up his shaft, letting out a gasp of breath as he did so. He rubbed down again and back up, pulling himself into full hardness. Days worth of glances, small touches, shy words, waking beside a man who he now had to admit to himself he _wanted_ , came rushing to a head. He stroked himself again, swirling his soapy thumb over the head of his cock, letting out a small moan as he did so. 

He glanced across at the bed as he rubbed, and suddenly all he could think of was being laid out beside Jon, just their thin shirts separating them from each other. He hissed in a breath as he imagined Jon’s hands on him, his hard body against him, mouth hot and wet on his. His hand sped up almost involuntarily. He breathed in, imaging Jon’s scent, imagining the sounds he might make as Gendry brought him undone. He was breathing heavily now, hand moving quicker. He closed his eyes, almost able to feel the ghost of Jon’s mouth against his. He moaned again as he brought himself closer to the edge.

‘Jon - ah fuck - Jon,’ he gasped, imagining the other man rasping his name in his ear. He came undone with a cry, hunching forward as he came over his hand in hot, hard spurts. 

When he had shuddered through his release, he straightened up slowly, retrieving the washcloth and wiping himself down. He stood in front of the fire, gulping in deep breaths of air, mind still filled with the image of Jon’s hands on him.  
_Fuck_ , he thought to himself, eyeing the bed. _How in hell am I going to sleep beside him now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo is one sided smut meeting anyone's needs? lol
> 
> Sorry but we're still creeping along.


	13. Chapter 13

**Gendry**

His prediction had been right. He woke the next morning, aching and hard, hands itching to reach out to Jon’s sleeping body and pull him on top of himself, kissing him until he couldn’t breathe. He pushed the thoughts away, trying desperately to think of anything but the man wrapped around him, clad only in a thin cotton shirt.

He had to sound Jon out first, get an indication of whether he was interested in that way - interested in something physical. The man had never woken up hard against _him_ , now, had he. Jon’s hands always stayed above his waist. He couldn’t just make a move. He had to figure out first whether Jon wanted it. Gendry sighed in frustration, this would all be so much easier if he was back home and he could just kiss the man and see. If it didn’t work out, he could leave. Easy. Except here, there was no leaving. And no easy.

At his sigh, Jon stirred, waking up. He stretched against Gendry’s body, the feeling of hard muscles moving against his doing nothing to dampen his arousal. This morning, instead of pretending to still be asleep, Gendry kept his eyes open, looking into Jon’s when he raised his head, blinking himself awake. His face first thing in the morning, soft with sleep, was beautiful. Gendry had to stop himself from pushing up to kiss the other man’s mouth.  
’Morning,’ he murmured.  
Jon blinked again, startled to see him awake and pulled back, his face reddening slightly.  
‘Sorry,’ he muttered in return, disengaging from Gendry’s body and rolling away.  
‘I don’t mind,’ Gendry said quickly, and Jon stopped his movement, half sitting up, glancing back over his shoulder. ‘… it’s nice … to wake up like that,’ Gendry finished.  
Jon’s face lost a hint of its wariness and he smiled slightly, as though in agreement. But he still left the bed.

Later that day they were outside when Ghost disappeared into the trees.  
The days were easier. The days were filled with activities and outside and space. There wasn’t so much touching during the days and Gendry could turn his mind to other things.  
’Are you ever worried he won't come back?' Gendry asked, thinking back to a few days ago when Ghost had been gone two nights and the winds had picked up.  
Jon shook his head, peering into water barrels to check their content. 'He always comes back to me. I don't think he could do otherwise.'  
Gendry looked at him, slightly skeptical. 'Where does he go though? Surely it's more comfortable in the cabin, safe from the cold.'  
Jon smiled, looking up at him, ’He's a wolf. He belongs in the wild.’ He paused, looking uncertain, then said, ‘Sometimes I dream of what his life is like, running and hunting, the chase of the prey, the freedom of eating the ground. When I dream, the whole world is his.' He paused again, looking a bit embarrassed. 'I know they're just dreams but somehow it makes this life easier to bear if I can imagine I see it through Ghost's eyes too.'

Gendry looked at Jon, the earnestness in his face. Sometimes the things he said sounded so outlandish, things that he would laugh at if he heard them back in the real world. But out here … they sounded right somehow. Besides, he thought more about Jon’s character … there was something of the wolf about him; pride and loyalty and a wildness that made him think Jon could hold his own in a fight. So he didn’t say anything, he just nodded.  
Jon went on, ’Besides, he has a sister out there - Nymeria. Sometimes I see the two of them, far off in the distance, running together. She won't come near me, but sometimes they meet. He always seems ... happier after that.'  
Gendry smiled at the soft, happy look on Jon’s face. Suddenly he wanted to reach out and cup his face, rub his thumb lightly over that smile. Something of his thoughts must have shown in his face because Jon’s eyes widened slightly, and his gaze dropped to Gendy’s mouth. Gendry felt his heartbeat speed up slightly, but then Jon looked away, clearing his throat and turning back to the water barrels.  
‘I need to bring this one inside to thaw,’ he muttered, bending over the barrel to begin rolling it in.

——

Another day, another night, another morning wakeup where the heat of bodies was no longer just from sleeping warmth. But still Jon didn’t respond to his looks, his subtle hints.  
’So, not cards again, I'm thinking, but do you have any other games?' Gendry asked, sitting in front of the fire one night, desperate to take his mind off the bed in the corner of the room.  
Jon shook his head, looking faintly embarrassed at the reminder of the card game and its aftermath.  
'What did you used to play when you were younger?' Gendry asked, curious about Jon's past.  
He thinks back, 'Chase and all the things kids played; card games with father's men. And sometimes Cyvasse with Robb or Maester Luwin. I was better than Robb but Maester Luwin ...' he made a face. 

'I've seen Cyvasse played, but never learned myself,' Gendry said, looking interested. 'Think you could teach me?'  
'I don't have a set,' Jon said, sounding disappointed. _Did he, too, want a distraction from his thoughts? Or did he just want a reminder of a game from his past?_  
Gendry shrugged, 'did you not remember you live with a master craftsman now?' He gestured up to the mantle piece of the fireplace where the small carving of Ghost sat, watching over them.  
'Remind me what all the pieces and the board look like and I'll have a game ready for us in a few days,’ he grinned.  
Jon smiled back. 'Okay, sure. Let me think. So there are ten pieces: the dragon, the elephant, the King, the catapult, the heavy horse ... the light horse, the crossbowmen and ... umm the spearmen, the trebuchet and what's the last one ... let me think. The rabble.'  
Gendry nods, thinking how he could carve the pieces.  
'And the board?'  
'Hexagons on a board of about _this_ size,' Jon said, holding out his hands.  
Gendry nodded, ‘okay, I could do that. Do you have any good pieces of wood in your stack outside? I’m thinking a set in something lighter and a set in something darker if you have it? Otherwise maybe we could stain one set with charcoal from the fire?’  
Jon nodded, and got to his feet, throwing on his cloak and picking up a lantern.  
‘You’re going out now for the wood?’ Gendry asked surprised, listening to the wind howling outside.  
Jon shrugged, ‘Why not? Besides … I like watching you carving. Your hands are - you have strong hands,’ he said, cheeks pinking slightly at the admission. Gendry felt his heart give a thud at the words, and he stared after Jon’s back as he disappeared out the door.

True to his word, Jon watched Gendry as he carved and Gendry became aware of every move he was making, every smooth, sure stroke with the blade. He became lost in the carving, in the silence, and he glanced across at Jon, imagining his hands were stroking over Jon’s body instead, revealing every muscle under his touch. He growled inwardly; this was getting out of hand.

‘What do you think of the book?’ he asked, breaking into the silence and indicating the forgotten book at Jon’s side. He’d began speaking just to break the tension and Jon’s eyes jerked up to his. He licked his lips slightly and Gendry nearly groaned. Did the man not know what he was doing to him? The thought pulled him up … Jon had only been with one person … was he just unsure? Did he not know how to make a move? Surely it had to be more than that, that was stopping him?

Jon looked down at the book, picking it up and turning it over _Common elements and their properties by Maester Karmigan._  
He seemed lost for words for a moment, gaze straying back to Gendry’s hands, still moving over the wood. But then he shook himself slightly, ‘It’s interesting I guess. Prospecting, minerals, elements, none of that is anything I’ve ever paid much attention to.’  
Gendry nodded, ‘I became interested after I started smithing and leaned more about the forging of different metals and what adding some of one could do to strengthen or weaken another. There’s actually a lot of study behind it.’  
Jon nodded, looking down at the book again, then he looked up to meet Gendy’s gaze and said, ‘I was wondering actually -‘ he paused, as if not sure how to say what he wanted, but then he continued with a rush. ‘Why are you here?’  
Gendry looked around himself, at the cabin, playing dumb, ‘You brought me here?’  
A brief smile flashed across Jon’s face at the words, but he persisted. ‘What were you looking for? In the Gift?’  
Gendry looked at him, surprised now that they hadn’t had the conversation earlier. It was no secret … but he wondered what Jon would say.

‘I’m looking for iron ore,’ he said. ‘There are rock formations and sediment layerings around this area that indicate it might be present, but I haven’t come across any yet.’  
‘What does it look like?’ Jon asked, clearly not having reached that section of the book yet.  
Gendry thought about the best way to describe the rock. ‘It’s a rock with a dark grey look to it - almost shiny - and it’s generally layered in amongst other rocks in big bands. It’s quite a hard material, and the edges are generally sharp or jagged. It breaks in chunks.’  
Jon nodded at the description. ‘And what would happen if you found it?’  
Gendry laughed, ’Well I’d be rich for starters.’ Then he paused and thought. ‘The mines all through the South are low on ore and there is talk of a war with a Queen from across the Narrow Sea in years to come. There will be need for weapons, lots more, and that means more iron ore. What would happen - well I guess a mine would be established, miners would come, export roads would be established, probably towns would spring up. Depending how much was found, it could open whole other areas up to exploration and mining. It could be the start of a new industrial boom for the North.’ He laughed at the image.  
Jon’s face was unreadable as he listened and Gendry paused a moment to think exactly what that might look like in the beautiful, untouched landscape of the Gift and the lands beyond the Wall.

He hesitated slightly, then asked, ‘Have you seen any ore?’  
Jon looked at him for a long moment, then he shook his head. ‘No. Nothing like what you described.’  
Gendry nodded, not surprised, the last of his hopes for riches slipping away, and bent back to his carving.

\-----

'I'd kill for a drink,' Gendry muttered a few nights later, stretching his arms up over his head. He’d been so tense lately, almost on edge and he just wanted to unwind. He was still no closer to understanding what Jon wanted of him - if anything. His comments, his looks, his accidental touches … none had been rebuffed … but none had been encouraged either. He was close to just grabbing the man and kissing him - fallout be damned. 

Jon glanced across at him, hesitating, and then said, 'I've got a little of something that I brewed up from some local plants a while back.'  
Gendry raised an eyebrow at him, 'you've been holding out on me!' He accused playfully.  
Jon shook his head, 'don't say that until you've tasted it. It's pretty terrible, but it's strong. Every now and again, when I need something to sleep ... or to forget, it does the trick.'  
Gendry smiled, 'I'm sure I've had worse.'  
Jon just gave him a look and as soon as he took a sip Gendry knew why. 'That _is_ terrible,' he spluttered, laughing. Then the burn made its way down his throat and he felt it spread through his belly with a kick. 'Wow, strong though.'  
Jon grinned and reached for the bottle. He took a deep swig, not even wincing, and Gendry raised his eyebrows in admiration.  
They swapped the bottle back and forth, Jon taking a deep drink each time, Gendry just sipping, a pleasant buzz running through him. He watched Jon; the man wouldn't quite meet his eyes. He seemed on the verge of speaking more than once, then stopped himself and took another drink.  
'Jon,' Gendry asked quietly, at last. 'What are you drinking to forget tonight?'  
Jon looked over at him, surprised, and lowered the bottle from his lips. His eyes were deep and dark.  
'I - nothing. That's - that's probably enough for t'night,' he said, voice slurring just slightly on some words. 

Gendry stood, pulling his crutch under one arm, feeling slightly unsteady on his feet but mostly just relaxed. Jon reached an hand up to him, a mute appeal for help out of his chair. He grasped hands with the Ranger and pulled. Jon came up off the chair, stumbling forward as he got his feet under himself. He came up hard against Gendry's chest, hand still in his.  
Gendry drew in a quick breath, looking down at Jon's face, just centimetres away from his. Jon's brown eyes met his, then dropped to his lips. He swayed on his feet and Gendry felt his heart speed up.  
'Jon-' Gendry began softly.  
But Jon leaned forward suddenly, pushing a clumsy kiss to his mouth. He was stunned for a moment, then the feeling of the lips on his and the body hard against his kicked in and he pushed back against Jon, bringing his hand to Jon's waist to steady them both and pull him closer. Jon moaned slightly into his mouth, opening his own. Gendry gasped at the sensation, immediately kissing deeper, claiming the other man's mouth. He felt his body flood with heat at the contact he'd been wanting for so long. Jon's mouth was hot against his, but then he swayed in Gendry’s arms, nearly overbalancing them both. 

Gendry broke the kiss, pulling back and breathing heavily. He looked at Jon and the other man's eyes didn't quite focus on his.  
'No,' he said hoarsely, and the word was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to say. 'Not like this. Not when you're drunk.'  
Jon looked at him, gaze sharpening slightly, confusion in his eyes turning to hurt. He turned away abruptly, stumbling over his own feet. When Gendry went to move forward, he waved him off.  
'Jon, I want to ... just -'  
Jon waved him off again, not turning around. He pulled at his clothes, fumbling them. Then he just growled in frustration, climbing into bed still mostly dressed and facing into the wall.  
Gendry sighed and sat back into the chair in front of the fire. He sat, tormented, watching Jon as he fell into sleep. Remembering the touch of his mouth, the taste of him. Had he done the right thing? Part of him wanted to climb straight back into bed with the man and kiss him til they were both breathless, but the other part remembered Jon during the night, drinking to work up his nerve. What if this was something that he would regret in the morning, when he was sober again?

He eventually fell into a restless sleep and his dreams were full of images of Jon's hard body moving against his, hot, wet kisses and breathless sighs. 

\---

The next morning when he woke, stiff and sore from sleeping in the chair - how had Jon managed it for weeks? - the bed was empty and Jon was gone, Ghost too. He stood to go outside and saw a note on the table. 

_Ranging the perimeter. Back tomorrow._

Gendry sighed, with a feeling that this decision was very strongly connected to the events of the night before. 'Idiot man,' he muttered, not sure which of the two of them he was talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @babydoll9498 - thanks for the Cyvasse prompt :)
> 
> @theonsfavouritetoy ... the kiss, as promised
> 
> @ everyone else ... sorry. Couldn't just have them fall straight into bed ... haha


	14. Chapter 14

**Gendry**

The day moved slowly. He kept glancing at the door, despite knowing Jon wouldn’t be returning that night. Finally, to distract himself, he sat outside, carving Cyvasse pieces until he got too cold. Then he moved back in front of the fire and kept going. By the end of the day, he’d finished half a set, lining them up on the mantle piece. Dinner was quick, just bread they’d baked a few days earlier and hard cheese - without Jon to share it, there didn’t seem much point in cooking up a meal. 

The cabin felt strangely empty and the bed even more so. He realised with a shock that this was the first night he’d spent apart from Jon in almost five weeks. Without the other man there, he realised how much he’d come to enjoy his company, the quiet reflective air he often held, the way his face quirked into a grin when he was teasing Gendry. They’d fallen into such a comfortable routine that he felt at a loss by himself. 

Lying in bed, no warm body beside him, Gendry thought back to the events of the night before, agonising over his decision to stop things. It had been the right one - he knew it. But … _I wish he’d given me a chance to explain … I wish he’d stayed this morning and given me a chance to kiss him properly_. He resolved to tell Jon exactly how he was feeling as soon as the man returned the next day … surely Jon’s own actions made things clear enough.

Gendry didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning and waking occasionally, thinking he was hearing movements outside the cabin - Jon returning? - only to realise it was the wind. 

There was snow swirling through the air the next morning when he woke. He’d half hoped Jon would already be back, but there was no sign of him. Gendry pottered around the cabin for the morning, an odd feeling of tension in his stomach, doing a few little jobs and cooking up a stew for lunch - for Jon when he returned. But lunch came and went and there was no sign of him. As late afternoon approached, Gendry’s tension turned into worry. He looked out the windows periodically and stepped outside the door, more than once, looking out into the snow-blown landscape. Jon had told him - weeks ago - that he didn’t like to be out at night in the Winter … and now he’d been gone not one but maybe two nights?

Thoughts started to churn through his mind … _what if something’s wrong? … what if Jon’s hurt?_ But he shook them off. _Jon’s lived out here alone for seven years_ , he reassured himself. _He knows more about surviving in this landscape than anyone else. Certainly more than me._ But he couldn’t shake the worry, eventually going to stand in the open doorway, looking out into the snow for him. As the light was fading, he saw movement on the edge of the trees and his heart leapt. Ghost came running from the trees, jumping up onto Gendry’s chest. He staggered back a step, grabbing the doorframe to avoid putting weight on his bad leg. Ghost licked at his face.  
‘Hey boy,’ he said, scruffing the thick fur at his neck, surprised at the wolf’s contact with him. Usually Ghost was more reserved. The animal dropped to his feet and set back off towards the trees. Gendry looked after him, surprised, then waited for Jon to come walking through the snow too. Long moments passed and there was no sign of him. Ghost came running back, pushing himself against Gendry’s leg and then heading back towards the trees. Gendry watched him, his earlier anxiety ratcheting up again. Where was Jon?

Finally Ghost came back, clamping Gendry’s hand between his massive teeth and _pulling_ him forward. Gendry looked down at him. ‘Oh shit,’ he muttered. Then he turned back into the cabin, crutch under his arm. He reached under the bed for his pack and emptied it roughly onto the floor, before repacking it quickly. He shoved food, blankets, water, and his medicine kit inside. He pulled on one of Jon’s thick fur coats and sat to wrap his legs warmly, pushing the foot of his broken leg into his boot, wincing at the pain and the tight fit. Then he stood, tucking his crutch under his arm and looking around the cabin frantically. Hanging by the door he spied Jon’s climbing picks, boot spikes and rope and he felt a chill go though him. Every other time he’d ranged Jon had taken all of his gear. He grabbed the picks and spikes and strapped them to the side of his pack, then looped the rope over his chest.  
Finally he pulled up his fur-lined hood, grabbed a lantern and a spare tin of paraffin and stepped out into the swirling snow, Ghost almost indistinguishable ahead of him.

Within minutes he had no idea where he was. The snow swirling around him was filling in his footsteps as soon as he made them. Once he was in the trees he couldn’t tell where he’d come from. Everything looked the same. It was almost fully night now and Gendry had the lantern lit, holding it up in front of him. Ghost was by his side, tension in his body as though he wanted to race ahead but knew Gendry would never be able to keep up. His leg was already aching as he broke his own trail through the snow, unable to lift his boot high enough to stop it dragging through the fresh drifts. With every step his crutch sunk into the snow, giving him a lot less support than he’d been used to.

As the time wore on, the going got harder. One hour passed, and then two, until Gendry was panting with the pain of his movement. He looked down at Ghost, desperately hoping that he was being led to Jon, hoping that it wasn’t much further … and hoping that when he reached him, everything would be okay. He forced himself to push on, to keep putting one slow step in front of another.

Finally the trees thinned and Gendry lifted his head tiredly to see open land in front of him. The snow had stopped falling and the moon was shining weakly through the clouds. By its light he could see the sheer wall of the snow-covered mountain to his left, and to his right a rough area of disturbed snow, which seemed to … he moved closed slowly … it dropped off suddenly. Gendry backed away from the edge but Ghost moved forward. He lay on his belly, inching forward towards the edge, trying to look down.

Gendry looked at him, frowning, then called ‘Jon?’  
There was no answer and he turned away, ready to keep pushing on, but there he heard a faint, ‘Hello?’ coming from over the edge.  
‘Jon? Jon!’ he called again, louder this time, taking a step closer to the drop. ‘Are you down there?’  
‘Gendry. Thank the Gods. I’m stuck. Do you have rope?’  
‘Yes. Are you hurt?’ Gendry called.  
‘No,’ came the answer and Gendry felt his stomach unclench as relief hit him. ‘But I can’t climb up. I left my damned rope and my damned climbing gear at home.’  
‘I have both,’ Gendry called. ‘Want me to lower them to you?’  
‘Yes.’ Jon called back. Then, ‘Don’t come too close to the edge. There’s a bunch of bushes sticking out of the rock that the snow’s built up on. I fell right through.’  
Gendry glanced across and could see a big hole in the edge of the snow drift. He dropped his pack to the ground and took out the ice picks and boot spikes, tying the end of the rope tightly around both. Then he threw them forward through the gap in the bushes, letting the rope play out between his hands. Around ten metres worth of rope spooled out before he felt the weight come off it.  
‘Pull the rope back up,’ Jon called. ‘There’s nothing around you that you could tie off on and it’s too dangerous to use yourself as an anchor. I can climb from here.’

Gendry did as he was told, heart in his throat, wanting to look over the edge to see what was happening, but not wanting to get anywhere near it. He could hear clunks and thuds and occasional grunts as Jon climbed, and it wasn’t until he threw one fur-clad arm over the top of the rock face, pick digging deep into the snow, that Gendry breathed properly again. Moments later, Jon’s tangled back hair appeared and he pulled his body up and over the edge, rolling away from it and lying on his back in the snow, panting heavily. Ghost bounded over to him, pushing his large head against Jon’s face. Jon reached up to hug the animal to himself, muttering something Gendry couldn’t catch.

Gendry fell awkwardly on to the snow beside the, the last of his strength deserting him abruptly. Suddenly the pain in his leg throbbed high and hard and he groaned at the feeling, putting both hands on to his thigh. Jon looked over at him concern etched across his face. He pushed Ghost gently aside to see better.  
‘Are you ok? Shit, you shouldn’t be out here. You shouldn’t - that walk -’ Jon pulled himself to his knees beside Gendry, pushing him to lie back.  
Gendry huffed a laugh, which ended in a hiss of pain. ‘I didn’t just fall off a cliff. Are you okay?’  
Jon waved him off, worry on his face. ‘I’m fine. I just couldn’t get off the ledge. We need to get you out of this cold. Shit.’ He looked around himself, seeming to be thinking hard. ‘You won’t make it all the way back home like this - did you bring your tent?’ Gendry shook his head mutely.  
‘Damn, I lost my pack when I fell. We need shelter.’ 

Then his face seemed to clear and he pulled the climbing spikes off his feet, standing up. He strapped them to Gendry’s pack and shouldered it, before reaching down one fur clad hand for him. Gendry clasped his hand, picking up his crutch with the other and then groaned as Jon pulled him back to his feet.  
‘Put your arm around my shoulders,’ he said, standing on Gendry’s bad side. ‘Good, now put your crutch under the other arm. Between that and me I’ll try and keep your weight off your leg as much as possible. How bad is it?’  
‘Bad,’ Gendry gasped, the throbbing ache starting up with more fury now that he was standing.  
‘Shit. I’m so sorry,’ Jon said, stooping slightly to pick up the lantern. ‘This is all my fault.’  
‘Both our faults,’ Gendry murmured, but he was too tired and too sore to take it further. Leaning heavily on Jon, he began moving through the snow again. To his confusion, they were moving away from the trees, further out into the snow.  
‘Wrong way,’ he gasped.  
‘It’s okay,’ Jon replied soothingly. ‘There’s somewhere near here we can stay tonight.’  
Gendry nodded, trusting in Jon, and put all of his energy into forcing himself to keep moving.

He didn’t look up again until they stopped in front of the mouth of a large crack in the side of the mountain.  
‘In here,’ Jon said, and Gendry sagged with relief that they could stop. As they moved into the cave the air seemed to warm. Gendry assumed it was just because they were out of the direct influence of the elements.  
‘Stop here?’ he gasped a question.  
‘Just a little further,’ Jon murmured. ‘You can do it. Only a little more.’  
The air warmed further as they moved through the tunnel. In moments he could hear the gentle splash and lap of water and he looked at Jon, confused. Jon’s face in the light of the lantern was soft, and warm.  
‘Almost there,’ he said encouragingly and Gendry hopped onwards.  
Around the next corner, he stopped dead, weariness forgotten a moment at the sight that met his eyes. The light from the lantern lit up a large pool of water, smooth rocks surrounding it. But that wasn’t what surprised him … the water was _steaming_. It was _hot_. He turned to Jon, who smiled at his amazement.  
‘Hot springs,’ he answered the unasked question. ‘The water is heated deep in the ground and travels up to the surface. We can rest here for tonight.’ Ghost had walked up to the water and sniffed it, but he turned away from it before drinking. He went to one of the cave walls, turning before lying himself down, head on his paws, watching Jon.

Jon helped Gendry lower himself to the ground, sitting him against a rock with his sore leg sticking out in front of him, then he set the lantern on a ledge nearby. Gendry closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the rock and breathing through the lingering ache.  
He could hear Jon moving about, dropping the pack to the ground, pulling out the water skin and taking a drink. Then he pulled a blanket from it, draping it over Gendry’s legs. He didn’t really need it, the air was warm inside the chamber and he was still wearing his heavy furs, but the gesture was a nice one.

He sat until the pain started receding, now that he was sitting still, out of the cold and with the worry for Jon gone from his mind. He opened his eyes, looking directly into Jon’s deep brown ones. He sat on the ground nearby, knees up with his arms crossed over them and his chin resting on his arms. The other man’s eyes were full of pain and guilt. Gendry couldn’t bear to see that look on his face, so he crooked a grin at him  
‘So I guess we’re even now?’ Gendry asked, mischief in his face. ‘Or do I have to nurse you back to health too?’  
It worked. Jon’s face showed surprise, and then a different emotion … one he couldn’t quite place. But the grim look disappeared.  
‘You wouldn’t have the patience,’ Jon commented dryly.  
‘Try me,’ Gendry joked.  
Jon’s look changed again, his eyes darkening, and Gendry suddenly felt a kick in his stomach. The events of the night before, the kiss, Jon leaving. It all came back to him - the anxiety of the rescue and the pain of his walk having pushed it from his mind. Suddenly he was aware that the two of them were face to face, that they were sober, and that the look in Jon’s eyes was … _hungry_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been made aware that Jon Snow (GoT version) seduces people with caves ... Ygritte, Dany, Gendry ... it's a thing


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the amazing @theonsfavouritetoy DREW ME this story. It's on my tumblr and I'm so in love with it >.<
> 
> I still don't know how to link so you can find me @ squirrel-and-me if you want to check it out. It's adorable so I really think you should >.<

**Gendry**

‘About the other night …’ Gendry started.  
Jon made a gesture to wave the conversation away.  
‘No, we need to talk about it … I didn’t mean for you to think -‘  
‘I was an idiot,’ Jon interrupted him. ‘I was drunk and I jumped to conclusions … I was thinking about it while I was ranging.’ He hesitated and looked across at Gendry, taking a deep breath. ‘When you said no to me … at that moment, all I could think was that it was one more damned person leaving me. Telling me I wasn't good enough.'  
Gendry felt pain run through him at that admission, the last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt Jon, ‘That wasn’t what I was saying,’ he protested.  
Jon made a soothing gesture. ‘I know that _now,_ ’ he said. ‘But at the time … I was … I haven’t touched anyone like that in almost eight years. I’ve been trying to work my way up to it for weeks, and I just lost it a bit.’

Gendry chuckled and Jon looked at him, surprised and a bit embarrassed.  
Gendry’s smile widened. ‘We’re both idiots. I’ve been trying to figure out if you want me like I want you for ages. It’s killing me being around you.’ Jon’s eyes darkened again at that admission and his gaze dropped to Gendry’s mouth.  
‘You - you need rest,’ he said, but his voice had a hoarse edge to it that sent a thrill through Gendry.  
‘I need,’ said Gendry, reaching out to snag the edge of Jon’s coat and pull him closer, ‘You.’ Jon’s pupils dilated and he drew in a sharp breath. Their faces were just inches away from each other.  
‘Your mouth,’ Gendry said horsely, his gaze dropping to Jon’s lips ‘should be outlawed.’ The other man licked his lips, his tongue darting quickly out. Gendry groaned softly. He looked back up to meet Jon’s gaze. ‘Your eyes,’ he continued in a rough whisper, ‘drive me crazy - you have no idea. You-’

‘You talk too much,’ Jon said and he pushed forward so that their lips met. Gendry’s heartbeat rocketed at the contact and he opened his mouth, Jon pushed against him with a groan, tongue seeking entry. The kiss immediately turned hot and wet and needy and Gendry felt weeks worth of touches and looks and tension flood into the contact. He moaned into Jon’s mouth, bringing both hands up to tangle in the other man’s hair, deepening the kiss. Jon groaned in return, his breathing coming harder as they exchanged kisses. Jon leaned forward, wanting more contact between the two of them and Gendry urged him further forward again, bringing a hand down to his hip and pulling him so that Jon was straddling him, one knee either side where he sat with his back to the rock.

‘Your leg,’ Jon gasped, as he broke the kiss, mouth red and pupils blown wide with want.  
‘What leg?’ Gendry growled, pulling Jon harder against him. In this position he could feel so much more of Jon, and he pulled him down hard onto his lap, moving his hands to his hips. Jon groaned again, biting into his mouth and bringing his hands up to cup Gendry’s face and neck. They exchanged kisses, each one making little sounds of want and need as they moved their hands over each other.

Then Gendry growled, ‘Too many clothes,’ pulling at Jon’s furs. Without breaking the kiss, Jon began stripping off the thongs tying his thick coat on. He shrugged out of it, throwing it to one side, then out of the layer below it. He broke the kiss for a second to pull that over his head, leaving him in just a thin tunic and the thicker pants and boots he wore. He panted for a moment, looking down at Gendry and Gendry felt hot need spear through him at the look on Jon’s face. He was gorgeous. 

Jon reached down for the ties on Gendry’s coat and Gendry returned his hands to the other man’s hips, moving them up and under the fabric of the shirt, feeling bare skin, hot under his palms. Jon led out a hiss at the contact, his hands faltering on Gendry’s coat as he moved his body forward against Gendry’s. 

‘You’re incredible,’ Gendry murmured. ‘Everything about you is amazing. I can’t wait to take you apart … to hear the sounds you make when you come undone.’ Jon shuddered at his words, eyes closing and head dropping forward. Gendry dug his fingers into Jon’s skin, raking them up his back and the other man let out a whine. Then Gendry leaned forward slightly, quickly stripping off his coat and under layer. He didn’t pause before pulling his linen shirt over his head, sitting clad only from the waist down, Jon on his lap. Jon looked up, his gaze burning over Gendry’s body, his eyes tracing the muscles over his shoulder and chest, his powerfully built arms. Moments later his hands and mouth followed. Gendry leaned his head back against the rock and groaned as Jon breathed in against his neck, hands on his bare shoulders, then kissed his collarbone, mouth hot. His hands moved down Gendry’s chest and Jon groaned into his neck as he felt the body underneath him. 

The sound spurred Gendry on. He was rock hard now, the feeling of Jon sitting on his lap, the feeling of the other man’s hands on his body and mouth on his neck driving him wild. He dropped his hands to Jon’s hips again and rolled his own up slightly, wanting friction against his aching cock. Jon stilled, raising his head to meet Gendry’s gaze. He looked wrecked with need, his eyes heavy lidded.

Gendry paused, breathing quickly, ‘sorry - I just -‘  
‘Again,’ Jon rasped, capturing his mouth in a deep, filthy kiss. Gendry groaned and rolled his hips up against the other man. Jon tilted his own, gasping at the sensation. There were layers of furs in between them, but neither wanted to break the delicious contact of mouths and bodies to remove them. They groaned and panted and rocked against each other, hands roaming over bodies. 

Then Gendry spoke, a gasp into Jon’s neck. ‘I need to touch you - please.’ Jon nodded and Gendry’s hands dropped to the laces at his waist, stripping them out roughly. He reached into Jon’s breeches, hand closing around his hot, hard cock, pulling it free. Jon moaned at the touch, hips jerking forward. Gendry closed his hand around him, rubbing up and down his shaft with sure strokes. Jon moaned again, fingers digging into Gendry’s shoulders and tilted his face for another kiss. Gendry rubbed his hand up and down Jon's hard cock, making his moans increase in intensity and speed. He was gasping now, his movements coming faster as Gendry stroked him. Gendry rubbed his thumb over the head, slick with pre-come and Jon shuddered against him. He did it again and again, swirling his hand, kissing into Jon's mouth, pulling him harder against him.  
Jon was gasping incoherent words now, a steady stream of need.  
'That's it,' Gendry rasped in his ear. 'C'mon, that's it. Let go.' As he said it he sucked a hard, biting kiss into Jon's neck and the other man jerked against him, shuddering a cry, his fingers digging into Gendry's shoulder as he came with hot, wet stripes over his stomach. 

Gendry tilted him up for a kiss, and fumbled one handed to pull himself free. He stroked quick and hard and in moments was shuddering his own release. 

’So, we probably should have thought that through a little better,’ Gendry said with a laugh when they had caught their breath and Jon pulled back to sit upright on his lap. The stickiness of their mutual release was spread up Gendry’s stomach and chest.  
‘I like it,’ Jon said, staring downwards, eyes dark, voice husky. ‘It marks you as mine.’  
Something in Gendry shuddered at those words, a hot primal feeling washing through him. ‘You’re so strange sometimes,’ he said, to lighten the moment. Jon looked up at him, flushing slightly. ‘I like strange,’ Gendry said, pulling him back in for a kiss. Then he broke it.

‘Come on, let’s wipe this off … then maybe we could have a soak in that pool?’ he asked in a voice full of hope. Jon pushed himself backwards off Gendry’s lap and looked at him, considering the idea.  
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll take off the splint, but you can’t exert it at all while you’re in the water. Understand? No bending.’  
Gendry nodded, grinning widely and picked up his shirt to wipe his chest. Jon reached for the waist of his pants and Gendry pushed down so he could lift his hips up. Then Jon pulled the pants down and off him. He reached for the bandage at Gendry’s ankle and began unwinding it, lifting his leg gently. Gendry felt a small ache, but he thought that was probably from the exertion earlier that night. The feeling of relief as the bandage was removed and the splint fell away was incredible. His thigh looked straight and normal, if a bit thinner than previously.

Jon stood and pulled Gendry to his feet, careful that no weight was placed on his leg. Then they took a short, hopping step and Gendry slid down into the pool of water, Jon balancing him. He gasped as it enveloped his body, sighing in appreciation of the warmth, eyes closing. Then he opened them again and looked around, levering himself onto a small rock shelf, so that he could sit chest high in the water with his leg up.

‘No fair,’ Gendry said to Jon, who was still standing clad in shirt and pants at the edge of the pool. ‘You’ve seen me naked about a hundred times now, and I haven’t seen you.’  
Jon gave him a mischievous look, then bent to pull his boots off, throwing them aside. He took the hem of his shirt and lifted it slowly up his stomach, over his chest and over his head. As he did so, his muscles rippled and flexed. Gendry watched every inch of the movement, drinking in the other man’s body, gaze catching over the scars across his chest. Jon let the shirt drop beside him and put his hands at his waist, pushing slowly, teasingly, at his pants. Gendry watched, eyes glued to the movement. Jon paused and Gendry made a frustrated sound, looking up into the other man’s eyes. Jon’s gaze was filled with laughter and something in Gendry’s chest clenched to see him so happy, so carefree.

Jon winked at him and pushed his pants down, stepping out of them and into the water with one swift movement. Gendry caught a flash of his naked body, hard and smooth and strong, then he was in the pool, ducking under the water and rising with wet hair streaming.  
Something occurred to Gendry. ‘Have you been sneaking out here to have a bath for the last few weeks?’ he demanded indignantly. Jon’s smile deepened into a grin and Gendry feigned outrage. ‘I make do with a bucket and you get this?!’  
Jon laughed, ‘Well you didn’t ask me if there was a proper bath around.’

‘Ha!’ Gendry said, then decided to needle Jon in turn. ‘So how did you even manage to fall off a cliff? You!’ Jon looked over at him, surprised at the change in topic.  
‘I wasn’t concentrating,’ Jon said, embarrassed. ‘When I left I wasn’t even paying attention to what I packed. My head was pounding and I just wanted to get out of there … and on the way back … well I don’t have any excuse. I’ve walked that path a hundred times but today … I was thinking about what I would say to you actually.’  
‘Turns out you speak very well without words,’ Gendry smiled, and Jon smiled back, moving forward in the water to kiss him again. Gendry lost himself in the feeling of the mouth on his, the hard body against his, smooth and hot in the water of the pool. He could feel himself attempting to stir back to life. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of this man’s body.

He held out his arms and Jon smiled almost shyly at him, moving forward to sit between Gendry’s legs, leaning back against his chest. He rested his head back on Gendry’s shoulder and Gendry bent his head forward to press a soft kiss against Jon’s neck. He ran his hand down across the other man’s chest, across the deep, angry scars criss crossed his skin.  
‘What happened?’ he asked gently.  
Jon winced, ‘It was a few years ago, we were hunting - Ghost and I - and we bailed up this huge stag. I slipped … or something, I don’t even remember, it all happened so fast. And it went for me, head down. It slammed me against a tree and I felt like a hundred knives were stabbing into me. Ghost killed it.’  
Gendry looked at him, amazed, tracing his fingers gently over the scars.  
‘What did you - how -‘  
Jon seemed to understand the questions he couldn’t verbalise. ‘I got back to the cabin somehow. Ghost helped me I think. He gave me strength somehow. For a long time, I don’t know how long, I was sick, feverish. I tended the wounds when I was awake and tried to eat when I could … but it was a long time.’ Jon’s hand came down to rub over the old wounds as well. ‘Honestly I don’t know how I survived it … sometimes I think I didn't ...'  
Gendry shivered at those words and brought his hand up to the side of Jon’s face, pushing him gently around for another kiss. He didn’t want to hear that sort of talk. They kissed slowly, lazily, learning the feel and the taste of each other.

‘We have all Winter to do this you know,’ Jon marvelled, when they broke apart.  
‘This and more,’ Gendry said, and his voice was husky.  
Jon shifted back against him at those words and they both took in a breath, but then he moved forward, spinning around in the water to face Gendry, to put some space between them.  
‘What will you do?’ he asked, and his face was open, and vulnerable, ‘when the snows melt and your leg is better?’  
Gendry looked at him, the question coming hard after the last few hours.  
‘I - I’m not sure. I came up here to find riches … but also to … prove myself I guess. Prove the the boy from the Flea Bottom slums could make something of himself, had something worth knowing. You have no idea what I went through at the Citadel, what the sons and daughters of _greater_ families thought of me studying alongside them.’ He sighed, looking down, his face showing his disappointment. ‘But my big prospecting ideas turned out to be nothing but a dream - a crazy pipe dream … just like everyone told me it was.' He snorted bitterly, 'I should have known better than to think I could make something of myself. Once a street rat ...'  
He sighed, making a conscious effort to shake himself out of that line of thinking. 'So … I don’t know. I have nothing to go back to in the Citadel - I spent all my money getting here …’ He trailed off.  
Jon looked at him, then said softly, ‘You could stay here with me … if you wanted.’  
Gendry looked at him for a moment, then pulled him forward in the water, kissing him lightly on the lips, once and then twice, hands on either side of his face. Then he pulled back.  
‘I think I’d like that, Jon Snow,’ he said. ‘I think I’d like that very much.’

——

They slept a while after that, packing up later quietly. Jon looked as though he was struggling with something and when they were almost ready to leave the pool, he said, ’I want to show you something. It's not far.’ He helped Gendry him to his feet and Gendry looked at him curiously, but followed. They left all the gear in the chamber by the pool, Jon only taking the lantern and Gendry moving slowly with his crutch, leg re-splinted.

‘These caves,’ Jon said, as they walked side by side through the darkness, ‘lead to a huge, underground lake … it’s what this pass is named for. Not many people know it, because you have to know where the entrances are. I’ve walked all through them. There’s a strange beauty even in the underground spaces out here.’  
As they walked, the rocks at the edges of the tunnel seemed to throw out a faint glittering shine. Soon the tunnel opened up into a vast chamber, the edges of it lost into darkness that the lantern had no hope of piercing. In the centre of the chamber was a pool of water that was black and fathomless. Jon was right, it was eerily beautiful. Still and quiet. The ground was rough all around it and Jon led him to the wall, rubbing his hand softly down over to it. Then he looked up at Gendry, his face uncertain.

Gendry looked from him to the wall, feeling his heart thump in his chest as he really _looked_ at it. Jon’s hand was lying over a thick, jagged piece of rock that shone dully in the light - _ore_. His eyes travelled along it, it reached solidly as far as the lantern lit up, in a band as thick as his chest. He looked up. A few metres above them was another band, and another. His eyes widened and he turned to Jon, amazed.  
'Now you know,’ Jon said, and there was something unreadable about his face.  
Gendry looked at him, then looked back at the wall, running his hand over the rock. ‘Now I know,’ he agreed softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @babydoll9498 and @theonsfavouritetoy ... hot springs delivered but there wasn't much washing going on lol


	16. Chapter 16

**Gendry**

The walk back to the cabin was still slow, but easier than the night before. Jon went ahead, tramping down the snow in a thick swathe, to make it easier for Gendry on his crutch. The cabin was cold when they entered and Jon knelt in front of the fire to get it lit, while Gendry sat and put his leg up.  
When Jon stood, he looked across at the mantle piece, 'You've been carving.'  
Gendry nodded, 'only need to do the board now.' Jon reached out to pick up each of the pieces, turning them over in his hand. 'You're very good at this.'  
Then he paused on the King, of the darker set of pieces. 'Did you ...' he turned it over in his hand. 'Did you carve the King as .... as me?'  
Gendry smiled easily, shrugging, 'thought it might give me more incentive to win if I was trying to capture you.'  
Jon took a step towards him and bent down to place a gentle kiss on his lips, shaking his head. 'You're just a giant sap, aren't you?'  
Gendry shrugged, unembarrassed, 'Only when it comes to you.'

Things were the same as before, but different. The routine, the cooking, the chores, life in a space together was the same, but now there were touches and kisses and glances that spoke of more to come. The faint layer of tension that had been building was gone. Instead there was happiness and laughter. In bed that night they exchanged touches, each one learning the other's body, hands moving smoothly, mouths following. 

The Winter wore on, sometimes they were stuck inside for days. They talked and Jon found himself opening up - telling Gendry more and more about his family, the life he grew up in, why he'd ended up where he was. After these conversations, he somehow felt lighter ... as though some of the darkness he'd carried inside himself had lifted. 

At night they played cards or Cyvasse. When Gendry grew bored he carved. He started on the mantle piece and soon six wolves chased their way along the slab of wood, playing in a forest. Every time Jon looked at it, he felt a part of himself put at ease. The animals all seemed so happy, so free - a family that would never be separated. 

Next he carved the back of the door, and a towering weirwood tree emerged, its face ancient and knowing. It seemed to have a message to impart but it was never one Jon could make out. 

As the season turned Gendry carved the bed with vines and leaves and trees. He carved the world outside into the frame. He wouldn't let Jon see the work he was doing at the head of the bed, covering it with a cloth after he worked each night. 

It was as the snows were beginning to melt that Jon announced Gendry's leg was healed and he needed to start trying to strengthen it again.  
'Why don't we go back to the hot springs?' Gendry suggested as soon as Jon had pronounced himself satisfied.  
Jon laughed, 'I swear you are part selkie. I've never known someone who wanted to bathe more than you.'  
Gendry shrugged, 'it was never really an option when I was growing up. Once I got clean, truly clean, for the first time I just - I guess I never want to feel the way I did back then.'  
Jon nodded, understanding easily, 'hot springs it is then.'

When they arrived they undressed quickly and slid into the water together. Jon moved forward to sit on Gendry's lap. They kissed slowly, neither one feeling the need to rush. They had explored every inch of each other's bodies during the long Winter, but the thrill and the desire had not faded in the slightest. Gendry kissed his way down Jon's neck, the gentle kisses giving way to a harder suction as he ran his hands down Jon's back to cup his arse. 

Jon moved against him, rocking forward slightly so their hard cocks rubbed up against each other. This position was a familiar one and the thought of what was to come sent a sweet ache through him. Gendry pushed one hand lower, gripping his arse and rubbing gently. Jon sighed at the touch, relaxing against it and pulling Gendry back up into a kiss. As the fingers entered him he gasped and shuddered. Gendry moaned into his mouth at the response and crooked his finger in that way that never failed to get a reaction. Jon moaned, hips jerking forward involuntarily.  
Gendry removed his fingers with a chuckle and put one hand on Jon's hip, the other reaching for his cock. 

'No,' Jon said, and Gendry looked up at him in surprise, immediately letting go of himself.  
Jon smiled, 'I didn't mean ''no'', I meant ... now that you have that splint off, we could -' he didn't continue but instead moved to the edge of the pool, kneeling so his arse was just out of the water, leaning his forearms on the edge and looking back at Gendry with a grin that was full of heat.  
'Yep - yes - I am totally on board with that idea,' Gendry grinned back. He moved to kneel behind Jon. His leg twinged as he did so, but it was more the movement of muscles that hadn't been used in a long time. His hand moved to Jon's hip again and he leaned forward to press hot kisses to the other man's neck and shoulder as he entered him slowly. Jon shuddered against him, head hanging down on to his arms. Then he pushed back. Gendry groaned and withdrew, pushing back inside slowly. They both gasped at the feeling. Before now, every time they'd done this Jon had been the one in control, seated on top so Gendry's leg wouldn't be strained. 

Now Gendry put both hands into Jon's hips, withdrawing and pushing home faster. Jon moaned again, and Gendry could see him biting into his own forearm. The sight of Jon so clearly enjoying himself sent a shock of heat through him and Gendry thrust harder this time, faster. Jon cried out, pushing back against him. Gendry couldn't help himself, he let go sinking himself deep inside Jon. He dug his fingers into the other man's hips with bruising pressure and began to thrust. The hot water swirled around them as they moved together. 

Jon was grunting little bitten off moans with every movement. Gendry pulled him up so Jon's back was resting against his chest and thrust again. The change in angle must have hit the right spot because he cried out, clenching hard. Gendry gasped at the sensation and thrust again, harder, deeper.  
'Fuck Gen - fuck, that's it. There. Fuck. Oh there,' Jon gasped breathlessly.  
Gendry rubbed his face against Jon's neck before biting down on him, thrusting faster as he did so. 'Touch yourself,' he rasped and Jon's ragged gasp told him he was doing it. 

They moved together. Wet skin sliding, gasps and pants and moans filling the air of the chamber. Gendry could hear the Jon's movement speed up as he rubbed himself and he sped his own thrusts up to match it. Moments later the other man shuddered, crying out his release.  
He clenched hard around Gendry as he did so and Gendry hissed a moan. 'Jon. Gods.' His own release was pulled from him and he panted it against the other man's body. 

They cleaned up when they were done and soaked in the pool a while. Jon evidently had a place he liked to sit because he moved to a rock that was shaped almost like a chair, with a headrest and lay back, closing his eyes. Gendry watched him a while, smiling at the look of peace on the other man's face as he dozed. 

Eventually he pulled himself out of the water and dressed, deciding to talk a quick walk down into the Deep Lake chamber.


	17. Chapter 17

**Jon**

_4th day of the 9th moon after re-supply_  
_Food stores: low, we have some meat left but minimal greens. The reindeer migration should come any week now though, and when the last of the snows melt I can re-plant the garden._   
_Water supply: clear_  
_Wood supply: low but the weather is becoming more mild. We have enough to last out another big storm if it comes._  
_Weather: there has been no snow in at least a week and the days are getting warmer. There are signs of the melt beginning._  
_Sightings: none_  
_Observations:_

_This Winter has been the best I can remember in ... maybe forever. To be able to talk with someone, laugh with them, share things with them, lie with them. That's not something I thought I wanted again. But now that I have it ... I'm not sure it's something I could ever give up._

_I think that I love him. It's not something I've said to him ... and it's not something he's said to me. But sometimes you can hear those words without saying them._

_There is only one thing troubling me ... I've watched Gendry, since the melt started, since he began to walk again, and something is different. He seems to have this energy in him ... this restlessness. I don't know what it is or why he's feeling it ... but the stories he tells at night. The stories have changed. They're not about far off places and long gone people._

_Lately he tells me about the Citadel, about his journey here - the people he met, the places he passed. He - I see him sometimes, standing in the doorway, looking back towards the South._

_I look at him - the person he is - full of life and laughter and warmth. And I don't know if I can keep him here with me - if I am enough to keep a man like that happy ..._


	18. Chapter 18

**Gendry**

He could feel Jon's eyes on him as they walked back from the signal point for Deep Lake pass. It wasn't Jon's way to ask what was bothering him. Gendry knew the other man would just wait until he was ready to speak. But somehow he wished Jon would just push the issue. He can't - he doesn't know which words to use to start. 

But the snows have melted and the air is warmer and he just needs to _speak_.  
'I - ah - want to go back down into the lowlands for a while.'  
Jon looked across sharply at his words, but then schooled his face into a more neutral look, nodding to show he was listening. Gendry looked ahead, watching the path.  
'I want to - there's some messages I need to send. And I want to sell some of my gear - I won't be needing it again. Plus it would be nice to have a cold glass of real ale,' He smiled at Jon and the other man returned his smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.  
'I'm thinking it will be only a few weeks? Maybe three? Four at the most. I can bring a few things back for you if you want?'  
'You're coming back?' Jon asked quietly.  
Gendry reached out at arm to stop him, to pull him around so they were facing each other.  
'What? Hey, look at me. Of course I'm coming back. How could you think I wouldn't be?'  
Jon shrugged, looking away.  
Gendry leaned forward putting both hands on either side of Jon's face. 'I'm coming back because you're here. And where you are is where I want to be.' His eyes searched Jon's and finally the other man nodded and Gendry leaned in to kiss him.  
'I'd ask you to come with me but from everything you've told me I get the idea Rangers don't get time off for holidays.'  
Jon nodded, still not saying much and Gendry smiled at him.  
'We're almost back at the cabin,' he said. 'This might be a good time to show you what I've been carving.'

When they were inside the small room, Gendry gestured to the bed in a silent appeal and Jon kicked his boots off, climbing to sit cross legged on it. Gendry moved up beside him and fiddled with the corner of the cloth he'd had laid over the bed head a while now.  
'I - ah - I well. You can see it.'  
He pulled the cloth down and Jon _stared_ , spellbound, at the image in front of him. Gendry had carved them both. Or not them - but the essence of them. It was two wolves, one sat tall and proud. It looked strong and wild but also had a sense of peace about it that he immediately connected with. It was looking down at another wolf that was crouched at its feet, rump in the air and tail held high. The second wolf just had such a feeling of joy and life and mischief to it that Jon couldn't help but smile. The two were captured in an attitude of play. You could just tell that at any moment the first wolf would break from his position and run forward into the forest in chase of the second. 

He reached out to run one hand softly over the wood.  
'It's beautiful,' he murmured. 'I love it. I-' he took a deep breath. 'I'll see you before the next moon then.'  
Gendry smiled and leaned forward, kissing him deeply.

When they made love that night it was tender and sweet and slow. And when they finished they lay wrapped in each other's arms, neither wanting to let go. 

He left the next day. Jon stood at the peak of Deep Lake pass and watched him until he was long out of sight.


	19. Chapter 19

**Jon**

_20th day of the 9th moon after re-supply_  
 _Food stores: I had a good hunt last week, and the meat is all salted. Another few like that and I will be on track for the coming Winter._   
_Water supply: clear_  
 _Wood supply: low but there's a tree near to us I will begin to harvest soon._  
 _Weather: the air has been clear and we've had a good amount of rain._  
 _Sightings: none_  
 _Observations:_

_It's been less than two weeks since he left but it feels like an age. I know he got out of the mountains safely because Ghost returned a few days ago. So now I will wait._

_Everything is different now. Every surface of the cabin reminds me of him, carved into memories and animals and life._

_So many times I've looked around, wanting to tell him some thought I've had, or share a smile with him, but he's not there. The nights seem empty, no reason to sit up in front of the fire without a story to tell. And my bed. My bed is always cold._

_What was once peaceful now seems ... lonely. I miss him ... but I think also maybe I miss people. My thoughts keep turning back to the earlier days at Winterfell - before things went wrong and everyone left. I remember watching Mikken in the forge, teaching Bran to shoot, the noise and laughter of Arya causing havoc ... even later, sharing a skin of ale with Tormund, wandering through towns with Ygritte._

_People are laughter and warmth and friendship. I haven't had those things in a long time but ... the memory of them feels good._

_Maybe, when he returns, we can talk about the future ... about a future that might not be at the Wall._


	20. Chapter 20

**Jon**

_17th day of the 10th moon after re-supply_   
_Food stores:_   
_Water supply:_   
_Wood supply:_   
_Weather:_   
_Sightings: none_   
_Observations:_

_Four weeks, he said. He promised he'd be back with the turn of the moon. Now we're half way through the next moon and I don't know what to think._

_Has something held him up? Or did he just get back to the world and remember he liked it much better than life in the mountains with a sad man and his dog._

_Everything we had those few months, everything we shared ...it was real. I know it was. You can't open up that way to another person and not mean it. You can't do that and then leave them. Can you?_

_I ... there was something I saw that I put out of my mind. It was when he was packing, I wanted to make sure there were enough travelling cakes packed and I opened the side pocket of his bag and ... there was a lump of ore in there. I don't know when he picked it up ... but at the time I didn't think more of it. Now I think of the rock and the book he was scribbling into at the end ... and most of all I think of the time that's passed since he said he would be back._

_Please come home Gendry._


	21. Chapter 21

**Jon**

_2nd day of the 11th moon after resupply_

_It's been fifty-two nights since he left. If there weren't carvings everywhere I looked, I would think I'd dreamed him. Those damned carvings taunt me some nights. They remind me of laughing eyes and soft touches. I sometimes want to pull them out and cast them into the fire ... but I can't. Somehow I can't._

_I thought about going looking for him - maybe something happened. But I wouldn't even know where to start._

_And part of me thinks that maybe he doesn't want to be found. He said four weeks._

_My answer about the next commission is due when the resupply comes. I've signed for two so far. I've signed eight years of my life to the Crown._

_I had thought that maybe ... that would be enough. Maybe when the resupply came I would tell him I had done my duty, my watch had ended._

_Now ... now I'm not sure what I will tell him._


	22. Chapter 22

**Jon**

_When the resupply comes, he will have my commission._


	23. Chapter 23

**Jon**

It was the curl of smoke from the chimney that alerted him when he left the trees. They’d ranged overnight and the fire should have been long cold. He changed the direction of his approach so he couldn’t be seen from the window and one hand dropped to the dagger at his side. He looked across at Ghost, but the huge wolf was unconcerned, padding straight up to the door. Jon watched him, confused. Then he glanced through the window at the very familiar figure sitting in front of the fire and he felt like he’d been punched in the chest. Breathing was suddenly difficult and an ache spread through him.

He wavered, for a moment, torn between wanting to go in and wanting to return to the shelter of the trees and the safety of the mountains. But Ghost started pawing at the door. Jon took a deep breath and pushed it open. He stood in the entrance, silent. Gendry looked up at him, bright blue eyes shining and face breaking into a huge, happy grin. He stood up and took two quick steps towards Jon, wrapping his arms around him and hugging hard, burying his face in Jon’s neck.

Jon stood, frozen at the contact. Part of him wanted to grab Gendry and kiss him until they were both breathless and naked … the larger part wanted to punch him in the face and scream at him for being a fucking traitorous bastard. He did neither, standing stiff, arms still at his sides. Gendry didn’t seem to notice his lack of response. The other man stood back, running one hand through his hair, looking Jon up and down. He was talking but Jon couldn’t focus on what he was saying. He turned away, letting his pack drop to the ground and pulled off his coat, hanging it on the hook.

Gendry was still talking, smiling, waving animatedly. Jon couldn’t take it in - he was here … he was back … it had been so long - over three months since he had left. Then one of Gendry’s words broke through the confusion ‘… Winterfell,’ and Jon’s head jerked up.  
‘What did you say?’ he demanded, voice rusty from misuse.  
'I said I had to travel all the way down to bloody Winterfell before I found someone that had ravens that could reach the Citadel. You weren’t joking when you said it was 600 miles away. Damned trip alone took me _weeks_. And _then_ , the bloody miserly bastards running the place now - Boltons or something - made me work! They made me smith for them! - to earn the price of a raven. Can you believe that?'  
Jon’s head was spinning at the words - the thoughts of his home - Gendry having been in his home. But the idea of ravens being sent down to the South, and what Gendry may possibly want to tell people in the South about his time here broke through his confusion and he looked across, suspicion in his eyes.  
'And what did your raven say?' Jon asked and his voice was cold.   
Gendry looked over at him, interrupting his own stream of conversation. He really _looked_ at Jon for the first time, seeing the tension in his stance and the hardness in his face. Suddenly he seemed less certain.

‘I - ah - I’m sorry I was gone so long … there really wasn’t any way to let you know what was -‘  
‘What did your raven say?’ Jon interrupted.  
’Um … well I sent one to the Maesters at the Citadel with the results of my search for the ore -‘  
Jon cut him off with a growl, ‘You told them? You fucking told them?! I trusted you! I thought you knew what this place meant -‘   
Gendry stepped forward again, hands coming up, reaching for Jon, ‘Jon - no - that’s not -‘ he started, but the other man brushed him away.  
‘Why even bother coming back then? Or did you come to move me out before the miners arrive?’ he asked with a bitter laugh.  
‘Jon - _listen to me_ -‘ Gendry said urgently. But Jon’s eyes were unseeing.  
‘I trusted you … I - I _loved_ you,’ he rasped, and there was anguish in his voice. ‘Was this all some game - trick the sad old ranger and screw him over -‘  
‘JON,’ Gendry shouted, grabbing his shoulders with both hands and shaking him roughly. He looked intensely into the Ranger’s eyes as he said, ‘I told them I found _nothing_. I told them it was a fools errand and that I would never be returning to the Citadel. I told them my journal with detailed prospecting notes all across the Gift would be coming by horse in a few months. Once that thing is logged into the archives it will be _generations_ before anyone wonders if it’s worth prospecting the Gift again.’  
Jon’s breathing slowed as he listened and Gendry’s hands moved from Jon’s shoulders to his face, cupping it gently. He looked deep into the other man’s eyes and Jon couldn’t help but see the honesty writ in Gendry’s intense blue eyes.

‘I was always coming back,’ he said softly, one thumb rubbing gently across Jon’s cheek. ‘It just took me a little longer than I expected to get here.’ Jon took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes, nodding. Gendry pulled him forward into a hug, and this time Jon returned it, wrapping his arms tightly around Gendry and breathing him in, burying his face in the other man’s neck and holding him as though he would never let go again.

Then he pulled his head back up and Gendry captured his mouth in a bruising kiss, pushing him back against the door. Jon returned it with equal passion, kissing and biting. Suddenly the need for each other - a need that had been denied for so long broke over them both. They pulled at each other’s clothes, scattering them across the floor as they made their way to the bed, neither one breaking the kiss. Both were hard and aching when Gendry lay himself over Jon’s naked body, sucking kisses into his neck. Jon’s hands raked down Gendry’s back, cupping his arse and pulling them hard together.  
‘Need you,’ he rasped. ‘Now.’

Gendry hissed a breath and slicked his fingers, reaching down. Jon arched at the contact, groaning and they prepped quick and rough, moments later Gendry was pushing himself inside and they both froze a moment, overcome with the heat and the sensation of being joined again. Then Jon pulled Gendry down into another deep kiss and he began to move, thrusting deep and hard. Within moments they’d formed a punishing rhythm, hands moving hotly over each other’s bodies as they tried to re-learn each other. They both came to the edge quickly - it had been so long - and being together again felt so good. Gendry moved his hand down to Jon, bracing himself on the bed with his other as he reached down to rub up and down the other man’s cock.   
‘Fuck - Gen - ah,’ Jon moaned as he came in shuddering gasps. Gendry rocked his hips a few more times before spending deep inside Jon with a groan. He collapsed forward onto the other man, both of them breathing heavily. After a few moments he drew back.

‘I love you, too, by the way,’ he grinned at Jon, kissing him lightly on the lips before they both lay back on the bed, still twined around each other, hearts racing.

——

'What's in the packages?' Jon asked later, still lying naked on the bed with his head pillowed on Gendry’s chest. He indicated the lumpy, wrapped shapes stacked onto the table.  
'A few luxuries ... books, some decent wine, a few tools I like to use,’ Gendry smiled. ‘Just some things to pass the time when it snows again.’  
' ... you're planning to stay?' Jon asked in a small voice, looking up at him.  
‘Of course I am,’ Gendry said, lifting himself onto his elbows. Jon shifted back so he was lying on his side, propped up onto one arm. ‘I meant what I said. I love you. I want to be with you, and if you’re here, then here’s where I want to be.’

Jon stared at him, unable to believe the words he was hearing. Surely it wasn’t so simple.  
‘But - people. You - this isn’t the life you want …?’  
Gendry looked at him, measuring his words. ‘It’s not the life I would have chosen for myself,’ he agreed. ‘But it has you.’ He shrugged, like that was enough.  
Jon looked into his eyes, measuring him, heart beating hard in his chest. Then he looked past him, up at the bedhead he had carved during the long Winter. The wolves called to him as they always did, one leading the other out into the world - life and joy and confidence in their stances.

‘I -‘ he took a deep breath, looking back into Gendry’s eyes. ‘I did a lot of thinking over the Winter … and after you left. I - maybe the Wall isn’t where I need to be anymore?’ Gendry stared at him, amazement and a trace of excitement in his eyes. It was this look that gave Jon the confidence to continue.  
‘If - if you want to … maybe we could find something else - together?’  
Gendry opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, pulling Jon forward into a kiss that lasted a long time.  
‘I love you,’ he whispered again, when they broke apart.  
Jon smiled shyly, then frowned slightly, ’You should know … I have no trade. I have no name. I have no … family, anymore.’  
Gendry looked at him, and his face changed, his look open and vulnerable, 'I … could be your family?’

Jon caught his breath at the words and Gendry rolled away, reaching down over the side of the bed for his shirt. He reached into a pocket and pulled something out, rolling back towards Jon. He held out his hand hesitantly '... I made you this. It's - ah - I forged it from a piece of ore I took from the Deep Lake cave.'  
Jon looked down into Gendry's open palm. A thick iron band sat in his hand - a ring. The look on Gendry’s face was so raw, so stripped bare and Jon barely paused before he shoved the ring onto his finger and rolled himself on top of the other man, kissing him again and again, both of them laughing, crying, lost in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a sucker for a happy ending ;)
> 
> Epilogue to come, then that's all she wrote.
> 
> Would love your thoughts :)


	24. Chapter 24

_Epilogue_

Jon looked up from the tankard of ale he was nursing in his customary corner near the door of the Inn. Gendry was in full flight, arms waving as he told the story about the Battle of the Blackwater again. Despite having heard it a hundred times, the men around him were captured by his voice, the way he wove the drama and the suspense around them.  
Jon smiled, not listening to the words, just enjoying watching the man. He was older now, grey at the temples and he complained of pain in his shoulders when the Winter came, but he was still strong as an ox, able to swing a hammer with the best of them. And his eyes, those eyes hadn’t faded, still sparkling with mischief and life, and love, when he looked Jon’s way.

The men around Gendry were all familiar faces. Deepwood Motte wasn’t a big settlement, but that was one of the things that had attracted them to it, so many years before. Jon couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the North, but here, no one knew of Old Ned Stark’s bastard - or if they did they had certainly never connected him to the quiet ranger who had taken up residence on the edge of town and came in every now and again for a drink.

Jon shifted in his seat, it was getting late and it had been a long day - the village faire had been that day. Traders had come from Winterfell and Bear Island, meeting at the Motte to exchange stores and stories. There had been lots of faces, lots of noise, singing and dancing. Jon's money pouch hung heavy at his side. He'd sold all of his furs, like normal. He was so much better with people these days, but still, the idea of a slow, quiet walk back through the Wolfswood to their cabin sounded nice right now.

Gendry caught his eye - sometimes he felt like that man could read him - knew what he was thinking without him ever having to say a word - and winked. Then he scooped up his tankard and drained it, giving a short bow.  
‘That’s it for tonight, lads,’ he informed them to a chorus of protests. ‘I’ll be back on the morrow.’ He gave one young man a look, ‘Olly, if those forge fires aren’t ready for me because you’ve stayed out drinking …’  
‘They’ll be ready Master Waters,’ the lad said with a grin, though his look wasn’t quite as sharp as it could have been. Gendry gave him a slap on the shoulder and Jon stood, pulling his fur cloak around his shoulders.  
‘Night Jon,’ came a few calls and Jon smiled back, giving a short wave, before he stepped out into the darkness.

The walk back was peaceful, neither one feeling the need to say much, shoulders brushing gently together. Jon was feeling pleasantly mellow from the ale he’d drunk and the clear quietness of the night. The moon shone bright overhead, lighting their path as they left the road to walk amongst the trees. Before they reached the door to the cabin, Jon passed his hand across the trunk of the White Birch he’d planted there ten seasons earlier. It was thick and strong now and he felt an echo of a wolfish grin as his hand left the bark.

Inside the cabin they re-kindled the small fire and Gendry undressed slowly by the flickering light, while Jon moved around the cabin in the familiar rituals of night time. Gendry climbed into bed and lay there watching him, eyes deep and warm. Then he smiled and lifted a corner of the blankets.  
‘Come to bed,’ he said softly.  
Jon smiled back, and went to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every single person who read this through with me. I've absolutely loved reading your thoughts and comments. They put a smile on my face for hours.
> 
> This story has such a special place in my heart and I hope I've done it justice.
> 
> Thank you and hopefully I'll see you on the next one :)


End file.
